Final Memories
by Mat Glue
Summary: 7th year. Darker days are ahead with the rise of the Dark Lord, and unfortunately, Fate doesn't leave much choice to Harry. Yet, Hermione is about to discover that one can play with the threads of Destiny to change the course of the Future. HrH
1. Blood and Guns

7th year. Harry's downfall or victory might come to a higher price than anyone had suspected. Is leaving sanity behind the best? Or would it be fighting with all your heart? But then, does he really have a choice? Hr/H chap1: BloodGuns

**Chapter 1: Blood and Guns**

All seemed normal over Little Whinging, Surrey: the lampposts illuminated the small neat patches of grass in front of every house while the sky above stayed dark. Only a couple of stars were faintly visible. Everyone was asleep, awaiting the next morning where they would get up and go about their busy lives once more. Everyone except Harry, sitting in his room on the first floor in 4 Private Drive.

Harry sat silently, looking out of his window onto the back garden, waiting for his owl to arrive with the post. He had his glasses in his hand, twirling them around without really noticing.

Hedwig swooped through the open window with a package and the _Sunday Wizard_ grasped in her claws. She dropped both on the desk. Harry stroked her head to thank her after have put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and then gave her some grain as reward. He picked up the package. It was from Hagrid, his half giant friend who'd come to rescue Harry from his Muggle family on a stormy night, precisely six years ago. The writing had a distinct wobbling. He read it thoughtfully, a small crevasse in his forehead forming as he went through the letter.

Harry was quick to open the package. He held out the present: it was a small orb, no bigger than a snitch, pearly white. He frowned, examining it in the poor moonlight (he didn't risk switching the light and having to deal with his uncle if he woke up). It was magical, of course, it couldn't be anything else. Harry grabbed a sock and stuffed the orb inside, carefully lying it down in his school trunk. He didn't want his uncle or aunt falling on it, or taking the risk of having it broken. It was way to precious to be wasted away.

Today was the thirty-first of July, Harry's birthday. Ron had sent him a poster of the Chudley Cannons, who, at the moment, were swirling in and out of the frame. A wizard suddenly flew into view, waving his arm at Harry, before disappearing with a "Go Cannons!" A distinct muttering came from the next-door room in response.

He'd been waiting for a letter from Hermione all summer. Ron had told him she'd gone to Bulgaria, to See Viktor Krum, the famous seeker in the Bulgarian national team. He'd also added something like: "Forget about friends for that Vikky…" However, Harry worried for her. Was there another reason why she wasn't writing to Harry?

Harry had been cooped up all summer; he'd been refused all trips to Ron's for his own safety. Dumbledore would sometimes send a brief note, no more than three lines on a piece of manuscript, asking him to stay out of trouble and keep close to the Dursley's house. Last term's 'accidents' as the Daily Prophet liked to put it, was slowly eating away Harry's mind.

Harry didn't dream anymore, all he saw while he slept was a black void, there were no more nightmares with the help of Occlumency. Except for once, where in a dark chamber, a tortured voice spoke.

It was damp and cold, the walls rotting away in their decay, just like the corpses that lay on the ground, rats scratching over the stone floor. It was completely dark, no natural light shone, dark except for two red dots for eyes that danced in the blackness of the Dungeons, giving away Voldemort's presence. The place would have frozen a man to the bone, but not the Dark Lord, no pity, no love would ever make that heart melt (did he even have a heart? No humanity seemed to be left.)

Chains rattle slightly, a prisoner shifting slowly. A sly voice spoke from the shadows to the Dark Lord: "Blood of Potter, sweet blood of Potter will spill. The boy WILL be destroyed. I assure you, My Lord. I tell you no lies."

A dreadful hiss echoed throughout the cell, and Harry knew that it was pleasure.

It had been very brief with unimportant details. Harry had refused to think about it farther over it. Of course, it would come as no surprise that Voldemort would try to kill him, again… But would he survive the attack? Would his friends survive? Harry had finally come to think of himself as Voldemort's murderer. If no one could do it for him, he would be the last wall standing against the Dark Lord. In other ways, Harry's days were forfeit.

Harry sighed. He wished everything could stop, all the stress, pain, his connection with Voldemort, he just wanted to rest…. However, he was not any Harry, he was Harry POTTER. That name brought more trouble and fame than he'd ever wished. It would bring Death along in the unusual trip that was his life.

And then he was furious with Dumbledore … He was left in the dark with the whole affair, even though Harry was in the middle of it. The Wizard Newspaper had stayed quite on any more attacks, even though it had many tips and interviews which had for subject Self Defense, publicity for '1001 Curses for every occasion' books and such, and "Unveiling Death Eater's Veil, a guide to recognize dark servants'. All he could do was wait… and learn. Learn as much as he could from his text books. He didn't get to do any magic in the summer or he would have been expelled from Hogwarts, whereas coming to seventh year, he should already learnt to apparate, a rule he just didn't understand. If he, Harry Potter had to defend his life, someway or another against the dark forces, he would lose everything?

Remembering about the Sunday Wizard, he picked it up from the desk where he'd left it and gazed down on the first page.

"'Hogwarts Greets Foreign Students'

It's now been a week that Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, last safe fortress against the Dark wizards, has announced his plans for this year's scholarship. With the reluctant agreement of the Minister of magic, Fudge, Hogwarts will be welcoming foreign students of different origins. This new course of action will hopefully create ties between the different magical communities such as elves, goblins, house elves, giants, fairies, usually considered as minor magical races. Albus Dumbuldore explains, "An exchange of knowledge, experiences will be most welcomed in these dark times." However, Narcissia Malfoy, a witch from a long line of pure bloods, contested this angrily. "I understand Dumbledore's motives, but I'm afraid no good will come out of this. We are too different" Community feels threatened, scared to send back their children to school. Some of these new foreign students, as giants, are well known for their brutality... Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic tries to explain this knew hospitality even though he doesn't seem totally convinced of the well being of this operation. (See page 2 for the interview with the Minister of Magic.)"

A photo had been plastered next to the article. Various faces unknown to Harry stared back at him. However, within the party, he recognized Dobby with a large smile on his face just next to, what Harry suspected was, a half-Giant, for he wasn't any taller than Hagrid.

There were about ten house elves in all. A goblin stood to the left side, scowling, his arms crossed, while a fairy, the size of a human hand, flew beside him. There were also two graceful elves with almond ears standing next to each other. Searching for their names under the picture, he found out that they were brother and sister, although they looked nothing like each other. They seemed all rather cheerful, except for the goblin, of course, even though the small twist of his lips coming out as a grimace might have been a smile.

Harry turned the page and grumbled. There was an article announcing Harry's birthday. He searched for the author's name and was glad to find out that it hadn't been written by Rita Skeeter. He quickly turned to another page, refusing to be put in a bad temper on his birthday.

Harry had been rather pleased to find no article from Skeeter on him at all since Fifth year. It wasn't surprising. The woman had kept her journalist job but had suddenly stopped talking about the Famous Harry Potter (and his love life). A close encounter with a jar (and Hermione) had changed that bad habit. However, the new paper was kept unusually silent, avoiding Voldermort's return directly, it was to be expected. Skeeter was now writing for Luna Lovegood's father… but that is another story.

Thinking about Hermione again, he wondered what was keeping her quiet, or if something bad had happened to her. He thought about it all until he fell to sleep in the same dark void shutting away any thoughts of his friends or the future. She was just at Krum's manor… That place was surely centuries old, and the Bulgarian seeker would protect her, just as he'd promised Harry.

It was about six a clock and the sun was up. The Dursleys had finally stopped rapping on the door for Harry to get up. He'd finally decided to budge and went down to the kitchen. No one had come down yet, so he served himself breakfast.

He heard Aunt Petunia light steps in the stairs. She entered the kitchen, clutching her fuzzy nightgown to her chest. She sniffed loudly at Harry and started to prepare breakfast for her sweetie pumpkin Dudley and uncle Vernon: all bowl of no sugar, fat free cereals without milk. Dudley had lost some weight, but still wasn't allowed to eat what he wanted. Yes, for he was on the Weight Watcher's diet, which was no use as he stuffed his face behind his parent's back.

'Go away if you've finished.' Petunia snapped.

Harry smirked lightly at his aunt as he sat down at the table with his breakfast, taking his time. If he had to die, he told himself, he could at least enjoy eating his breakfast as he wished. Aunt Petunia sniffed loudly and ran back up to the first floor.

The window was wide open but the curtains were drawn, making the blue material lightly ruffle in the morning's breeze. Harry saw the milkman, or more precisely, milkwoman walk by without stopping at the next-door neighbors, heading straight for the Dursley's front porch. Harry, finding this suspicious already had his wand in his hand, and was tiptoeing to the front door.

There was a slight knock, and a "Neptunigarlic," said just loud enough for Harry to hear through the wood. Harry opened the front door slightly and glanced outside, and then opened it wide for Tonks, white hat on her head, to walk into the house, milk bottles in hand.

"Harry, got news for you." Her voice was rather urgent.

"Good or bad?" Harry asked walking back to kitchen, picking up his bowl and putting it in the sink without bothering to wash it.

"Both," Harry's cousin announced. It was the first time this summer that Harry had been contacted directly by someone from the Order, and he'd just decided that Tonks wouldn't leave without giving him a minimum of answers. "The good is that we're getting backup today anytime."

"Who's that?"

Tonks bit her lip while straddling a chair. She picked up an apple and munched on it. "Battle wizards, the elite. They had a favor to return. Dumbledore got some connections in the Olibrium quarters… That's what they call their place. Don't known much about them. But if Dumbledore trusts them, so do I."

Harry frowned (something he did often these days) "Come on, you must know more about them, you're an auror…"

Tonks shook her head. "All I know it's they fight against Evil, and it's hard to know what they look like, because, well… they're invisible… for good. That's all I know. I might have crossed them a dozen of times on missions without knowing they were there." She paused, sitting up with the milk bottle basket still in hand. "Their motto is Never Seen, Never Heard."

Harry thought this over. "invisible". How could he know if hey were Death Eaters among hem if they didn't see each other. Tonks seemed to have guessed his question and shook her head once more. "I really don't know. Maybe if you ask Dumbledore… As for the bad…" Harry looked at expectantly. "We're leaving the Black Household."

"How come?" Harry asked.

"We'll be based in Hogwarts." She refused to add anything, she didn't need to add something. The Final Battle couldn't be far off anymore. "Well, I'm off." She tried to give Harry a reassuring wink while she took out a book of her white jacket and put it on the table before leaving the kitchen. Hearing the front door close after his friend's departure, Harry picked the book up and read it's cover. "Constant Vigilance". An other auror training book.

So, the Order wasn't using Harry's deceased Godfather's House anymore, it was now free, exchanged against Hogwarts. The Order would surely install themselves in unused chambers under the school itself, ready if any attack would be drawn against the place. When he would return to HOgwarts, he'd inspect with his invisibility cloak and his Marauder's map.

He took the book up to his room, crossing Uncle Vernon on his way. Harry didn't take much notice to his relatives anymore. They were scared of him, not that that had ever changed. But this time it was another kind of fear. A close encounter with Voldemort the previous year couldn't be so easily forgotten. Uncle Vernon had started to yell at him at the beginning of the holidays, frustrated and confused why his nephew would stay.

"_Why do you stay here? You're a powerful Wizard! The So Called Boy Who Lived!" It'd been the first time that Harry's uncle had actually said it out loud. Magic had been taboo at all moments. "Go and sleep elsewhere! Don't you care what happens to us?"_

_Uncle Vernon had been talking about Voldemort, the danger that Harry was putting his family in. _

"_This place is protected," Harry replied, trying to convince his Uncle and himself. "Protected until we stay together."_

"_And why is that? Your magic can't be bullet proof! You're a selfish little…"_

_It was then, at that precise moment that Aunt Petunia had decided to speak for the first time on the matter. "Vernon, calm down. Harry is telling the truth." Harry had been the first to be surprised. His Aunt had always said that magic had been a filthy thing, that she'd despised her sister so much that she kept her grudge on Harry. "My sister had made a spell… We will be protected if we stay together. The protection is in the blood. As long as we stay together…" She was repeating herself, seeming oblivious to the stares that her entourage were giving her, especially her husband. "Vernon, you already know this."_

And so it was of this manner that Harry was still IN the house, with the Dursleys. It was his protection for the summer, until he went back to Hogwarts for his last year. And then, he would never return to 4 Private Drive ever again.

Harry was thinking this over in his room, the book that Tonks had gave him on his lap while he starred out of his window into the blue sky. It was another beautiful day.

Last year's events had more than changed him. The attack on Diagon Alley had been the worse, nightmare in broad daylight. He could still remember Hermione's leg, ripped apart, and she unconscious on the floor. Ron's pale face as he tried to hold himself up, his wand hand shaking. And then he thought about his fight with Viktor Krum, and he felt considerably stupid. Of course, the fight had been over Hermione, that was important, but it had seemed insignificant next to what atrocities had happened next. His two best friends had learnt about the prophecy in which Harry was involved in: killed by Voldemort, or kill the dark Lord, which made of Harry dead or a murderer. They had promised, Ron, Hermione and him, that they would stay together, what ever happened, whatever the cost.

Harry sighed. He would die, he was sure of it. How could he face Voldemort? He didn't have the experience. He would miss his friends, they would probably miss him too. But he wouldn't abandon faith. He would do his best this year, to learn as much as possible. He wouldn't abandon his friends.

On this last thought he opened up the book and started to studying it.

Aunt Petunia sat in the back garden, reading "The Mirror" (or "The Sun"). It was another beautiful day, and she decided to have a sunbathe. Lying down on a white long-chair, she turned the pages slowly, sunglasses on her nose, sun-cream on the stool next to her, over a pile of other magazines. Uncle Vernon was in the sitting-room with Dudley, watching a soccer match. You could hear their cheers and groans with the commentators words from outside where Aunt Petunia was. Her mind was far off from any dark thought, which explained her reaction or lack of reaction. Hearing a rustle of leaves in the bushes, she put her magazine down, intrigued, frowning slightly.

"Who's there? Mr Hurly, I told you that we'd see to the garden Thursday…" However, there was no one. Aunt Petunia got up, wrapping her towel around herself.

The bush rustled again, Aunt Petunia's eyes became wide, waving her hand franticly to her husband that could be seen through the sitting-room window. Something was wrong, magic was in the air. "Vernon…" she croaked. "Vernon!" she repeated a little louder.

"What is it, Petunia. I'm missing United versus Chelsea here…" he said pulling his eyes away from the TV set. "It better be for something good or…" His words faltered as he saw his wife's desperate expression. "Don't move!"

To his horror, Aunt Petunia decided to faint on the spot with an enormous cry.

Harry heard someone shriek. Before he could think twice he was running down the stairs, his wand in hand. His uncle was shuffling desperately through a draw, cursing and yelling at the same time to Aunt Petunia while Dudldey, had leapt into a dark corner, trembling and sobbing loudly. There might have been Death Eaters and Harry wouldn't have heard them coming.

"Calm down!" Harry shouted franticly. Not now, Not here, he told himself.

There was no more time to think rationally, he needed to be able to hear his own thoughts. Harry threw a silencing charm over his cousin and Uncle.

"Silencio!" The house became suddenly completely quite. Dudley's loud sobs disappeared, just as Uncle Vernon's Mad shuffling and mumbling. Neither of them realized this change, too caught up in their first fright, neither stopping to contemplate what Harry had just done. Meanwhile Harry stood still, straining his ears for any sound. Hearing none, he padded along to one of the windows and sneaked a look out over the garden. There was no movement outside.

Aunt Petunia was lying on the grass completely still. Had she been struck by an unforgivable curse? Harry had been expecting an attack someday, but not here, not now… he need to send a message, quick. But first… He sent a dozen of spells and charms in different directions.

"Imtemporum!… Grandardula!…" Protection spells, curses. He was like a blind man in a room full of snakes. THEY could be anywhere.

Harry picked up the phone that was lying on the couch, dialing the emergency number. Aunt Petunia needed some medical care, he couldn't afford her to die. The muggle doctors would do, then, when he had time, he'd send her to St Mungo's Hospital.

And then the deluge. It all happened it a couple of seconds. Harry didn't hear it coming; but saw it crystal clear, his eyes widening in horror, unable to stop the stupidity of his uncle. Time seemed to slow down incredibly at the worst of moments.

Uncle Vernon raised the gun out of the draw, pulling back the safety latch. The shot was off as he pulled the trigger, the bullets rippling out of the barrel. No gun shot, no sound, no warning.

The first bullet struck the window. Silence left immidiatly, replaced by the loud crash; the glass shattering it in thousands of sharp glimmering pieces, raining down on Harry who was crouched just underneath. He pulled his arms up for protection.

More hit the walls, sound exploding from everywhere, fuming holes left as the gun cartridges fell smoking to the ground.

One punctured Harry's shoulder, bringing out a cry of pain as it hit his flesh, burrowing it's deep. And to his horror, Harry had the time to notice a last bullet come flying directly towards his head.

How could he die now? Voldemort was meant to kill him! The answer didn't come, as the bullet stopped in midair, driven into an invisible wall, followed by a muffled thud to the floor.

Uncle Vernon stood frozen in his gesture, a grimace inscribed on his purple face, his mouth contorted with a silent curse, the gun still held up high. It was then that Harry saw it seep out.

Blood poured to the floor, soaking the carpet with red, forming a scarlet puddle. The liquid reached Harry's kneeling form, staining his trousers red. He was transfixed by it, his eyes grounded on the warm fluid. He tentatively touched it with his finger, trying to make out if he was dreaming or not, wondering how he was still alive. He felt it's warmth. His hand then fell over an invisible form, something solid. It was real. This was not his blood, even though he had a shoulder soaked in his own. This was someone's else's.

He stayed this way, for a long moment, still trying to understand what had occurred here until he finally leveled his gaze back to Uncle Vernon's own mad one. Harry didn't know what happened next, for darkness came over him as he fell into unconsciousness.

This fanfic is written with Human Nature. (that girl has impressive theories on how HP magic works!)

Oh well, this last year is starting rather good, huh? Poor Harry. Shot, and now unconscious, not because of any Death Eater's curse, but because of a MUGGLE gun! I think those things are more powerful than any wizards really thinks. Imagine the combination of Muggle technology and magic! I'm not talking about a simple car or anything. Imagine a cursebullet. If I develop the muggle side a little in this fanfic, there sure is going to be guns. (Vernon wanted to defend his family, and it seems at any cost: buying a gun, how, I haven't decided yet, what kind of gun? Don't know…Yet) Sure you've haven't crossed a story just like this one. (well, I haven't.)

Hermione's is at Krum's? What's between those two? Remind u that this story is in the seventh year, there will be a couple of flash backs to explain some stuff, (this is also a Harry/Hermione pairing mouhahha!! I won't go easy on them, but more easy than some people have been on them. I've just read a fanfic with H/Hr, it was too depressing! There was no place left for any hope. Not that it wasn't good, it was really well written for sure…)

Well, I propose something, I stop my babbling, and you REVIEW! What do you think? Good? Well what you're waiting for… are you still reading this? Hurry up and REVIEW (make a girl happy and have a cookie!) thanks.


	2. Promising

Chapter 2: Promising  
  
He felt tired, heavy, as if the air itself was pressing him down. And it throbbed, it throbbed painfully.

"Have you seen Neville's toad?" a girl with bushy hair asked.

"Fred and George are trying to make me eat some of their stuff again, my hair turned pink last time…" Harry recognised the red head somehow.

"Die here, tonight…"

Harry awoke with a start, blinking slowly in the darkness of what seemed a room. He slowly wiped the sweat of his forehead. As he tried to get up, a stab of pain dug into his shoulder. HE gasped in shock and fell back against his cushion. What had happened? An attack, yes, that was it… Uncle Vernon had fired… and he'd been shot, in the shoulder. Death Eaters.

His eyes felt tired, and they closed a couple of times on their own accord. No, he couldn't go to sleep. He fought unconsciousness.

Where was he exactly? Where was his wand? He pushed the covers away, ignoring his blistering shoulder and swung his legs over the bed in nerve taking effort. A sudden surge of dizziness took him, the shadows dancing like sugar mice in front of his eyes.

"Potter, we didn't bring you to St Mungo's for you to go and worsen the wood." Light burst out into the room, Harry held up his hand against the sudden harshness. When he finally let his hand fall down to his side, his eyes haven just adjusted to the light, he found out that he was…alone. The room was empty, and bare of any object except his bed.

"Who's there?"

A grey form appeared beside the bed, it's deep blue eyes staring down at Harry.

For an instant, Harry thought it was Dumbledore, but this man was in fact bald, sporting a short cut grey beard. His face was completely blank, expressionless, and deadly pale. Harry could have easily taken him for a ghost.

"We're here for your protection, Potter. Miss Tonks did inform of our arrival. However, our relatives weren't aware and took fright… A small flaw of ours gave you this wound in your shoulder. Muggles, are never to be trusted with firearms." He said all this as if it had been just a normal experience.

So that was the excuse? Harry brought his hand up to his swollen shoulder, cringing slightly as he touched it. If he was at St Mungo's Hospital, why did it still hurt? It didn't have anything to do with Magical Maladies.

"What about the Death Eater Attack?" Harry asked, pondered how his Aunt was. A cold rock seemed to have hit his stomach as he wondered if she was…

"There was no attack, just muggle foolishness." The man's answers were forward, brisk and short. "Your Aunt is in Muggle hospital, she fainted," Harry felt ridiculous, there had been no attack at all. "Whereas your Uncle, he was put away."

"What?" Harry's shot up at this. What did this man mean by 'put away'?

"Police arrived at your house, they found your Uncle in the possession of a muggle weapon. He was highly disturbed."

Harry didn't want to hear about his family anymore, they'd nearly cost his life. He'd been protected from Death Eaters, but not by them. He'd been left there for about sixteen years, locked away in a cupboard, brutalised by his cousin, used like a slave for any house task, humiliated, his parents' memory insulted... The list had no end. "Give me my wand."

The man slowly reached into his large grey robes and took out the black piece of wood, looking at it thoughtfully. "I've seen another like this," he told Harry, handing the wand over, an expression of sadness, the first emotion Harry noticed from the man, cross his face. "Don't let it be used the same way."

The door opened, leaving Dumbledore enter the room, followed behind by the auror Mad-Eye Moody, his magical glass eyes swirling franticly around the room and inwards in his skull. A new scar had been added to the collection on his face, a deep red one that went from his temple to his jaw.

"Aurilius," Dumbledore greeted the grey cloaked man. They shook hands, the one named Aurelius rather unwillingly. Dumbledore then turned towards Harry, his face solemn with regret. "I'm afraid that your Uncle is out of my reach." Harry didn't say anything to this. "He's been detained in jail, and might, unfortunately… be moved to have better treatments…" Had Uncle Vernon finally lost his mind? Harry didn't want to know. "Aunt Petunia is recovering, but it might come as a bit of a shock when she learns about…"

"I don't care." Harry's voice had been cold and uncaring. Dumbledore went on as if hadn't heard, however, his normally deep blue eyes took a rather regretful look as he continued.

"… Dudley is at a friend of his, and is taken care of…"

Moddy's eye was now stuck on Harry. The lad seemed hollow, dark. His family had finally been sent away, not in the best of manners and Harry couldn't seem to care. The previous year had changed this boy incredibly. Dumbledore had stopped speaking, and was now watching Harry silently too.

Moody spoke up, hoping to bring a little light to this rather dark Harry. Something he had never really done to anyone else. "Well, you'll join your friends in a day time," he said. "Miss Granger and Mr. Weasly will be glad to see you,"

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "At Hogwarts, of course, you'll much safer…"

"That's where you're wrong," the battle Wizard declared, raising his voice. "Voldemort will be searching for Potter in Hogwarts."

"I agree with Aurelius, just this once," said Moody, nodding slightly. "Voldemort will have cats and eyes on the place."

"Aurelius, we've already talked about this." It was Dumbledore's turn to raise his voice, locking his gaze with the man's own freezing blue eyes. "You can't take the boy away like this…"

"He needs training, he doesn't need to know History of Magic, or Divination, or transforming a pin into a flower. It's a ridiculous waste of time." Aurelius said all this with a deadly calm tone of voice. "He'll be defenceless when they'll be a Real attack."

"But you can't replace the Old Magic that holds Hogwarts together," Dumbledore explained. They seemed to have forgotten Harry's presence altogether. He sat silently, thinking on his own as he watched the older men discussing between themselves. He gripped his wand tightly. No one had seemed to notice that he wasn't a boy anymore. He was much more.

"I'll go to Hogwarts," he paused, trying to decide what to do best. "On one condition." Dumbledore and Aurelius turned towards Harry who was having a little difficulty to stand up. He finally managed, his wand still in hand. Moody who hadn't left Harry out of his sight, chuckled slightly to himself. Potter might have better resources than he'd guessed… The old Auror felt slightly proud to see that Harry had finally engraved the notion of Constant Vigilance.

Hermione Granger looked over the crowd of heads, while Ron Weasley was still in Mrs Weasly's clutches.

"Mum! I'm seventeen."

"Ron, you can't go with that stain!"

Platform 9 and ¾ was full of exited first years, hovering parents and animal cries of all kinds. The Scarlet Steam Engine smoked loudly, waiting for the children to get on board with their trunks and cages.

"I can't see Harry!" Hermione yelled over the noise to Ron who was still in Mrs Weasly's care. She bit her lip, slightly worried, standing on tip toes, trying to make out a mop of black untidy hair. Hermione hadn't grown much over the past two years, whereas Ron towered over his family and most people here on the platform.

"Do you think he's going to come?" Ginny asked Hermione. "After what happened last year?"

"Of course," but Hermione felt a tinge of doubt. "He promised…"

The Hospital wing had been silent that night. Hermione had still been recovering from her wounds, but she was wide-awake while Harry stood next to the window, looking out in the darkness of the night, the lake just faintly visible. Ron had been sitting in a chair next to the bed, falling asleep.

"It's my fault." It'd come out as a whisper from Harry's mouth, but both of his friends had heard. Ron straightened up in his seat.

"How many times do we have to tell you, mate, it's not your fault."

"You Know Who is to blame," Hermione had added pulling down her covers a little to sit up. "Not you."

"It might be Voldemort's. But I'm still endangering you." Ron didn't have to heart to contradict him, whereas Hermione, fuelling on Harry's determination, had never been this stubborn.

"Harry. What are you planning to do? Leave Hogwarts, and then endanger us from afar?"

"Yes… I mean no." Harry was at lost of words, trying to meet his friends' eyes. "I don't think I'll come back next year. Next time… It might be worse."

Hermione sighed in an exasperated manner. "You've got it all wrong, Harry." This wasn't a thing to say.

"I've got it wrong?" Harry had yelled. "What do I don't understand? Death? Danger? Voldemort wanting to kill me? I'm a bloody living target, and if I'm right next to you, I don't see how you'll escape! You're the one that DOESN'T understand."

"It doesn't matter!" Hermione said briskly.

"Your lives matter to me!" he'd declared. Harry had marched over to Hermione, his face red with anger. "Why? didn't your leg being ripped off matter to you? Ron struck by a poisoning curse? You tell me you don't care?"

"Please…" Ron had tried to calm them.

"Listen to me Harry James Potter for a second!" It was Hermione's turn to yell. In her already weak state, it was taking a lot of effort to sit up straight and try to convince Harry at the same time. "It won't matter to Voldemort-Ron, for Goodness Sake- if you're here or on the other side of the planet! It's exactly what he wants. He knows we're your friends, the whole world knows. He'll try to use us against you." Her brown eyes were wet with tears by now. "Hogwarts is your fattest chance to be safe, for all of us."

"Yeah, Harry, we're the Fabulous Trio, we have to stay together." Ron had told him, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder, trying to soothe her before she would need Madame Pomfrey, again.

Harry didn't know what to say. "When I will... kill Voldemort, you'll distract me."

"Harry, it could be today, tomorrow or in fifty years' time. You need to learn as much as possible, here at Hogwarts."

"And we want to help you, no matter what we lose," Ron had added, surprising Hermione by the sensibility he was showing, for once.

Harry sat down in a spare chair, running his hand through his jet black hair. He looked so much older than what he was. All these years were finally taking their toll on him. "I don't know what to do," he confessed.

"Let's promise," Ron proposed. "Let's promise not to leave each other until the end."

"To share whatever burden you have… we have," Hermione had said. "To never be left out; whatever happens, until the end."

"He'd promised." There was no more time to waste; the train would leave any minute now. Ron took Hermione by the arm and led her into the compartments. "Ron, he didn't come," she told him, still not believing what was happening. They were going to Hogwarts, and Harry wouldn't be there. "He couldn't have left us."

Ron had a sad look as he squashed their trunks in an empty compartment. Hermione let herself fall on a seat, her eyes vague. After all what they'd done together, he was leaving them like this? Without any goodbye? She couldn't sit and do nothing about it. "There must a good enough reason." Hermione shot up and grabbed her trunk again, pulling it back out of the compartment. "Something might have happened. I'm not leaving without him."

"Hermione!" Ron caught the other side of her trunk, stopping her from taking any more steps. "Hermione, he left us, but it's Ok. We can't do anything about it. I'm his best mate, and I understand. He's worried about us. Dumbledore will take care of him wherever he is."

"No. He needs Hogwarts, and if he's too stupid to see it… I'll will at least tell him!" Heads were peeping out from compartments into the corridor, talking between themselves. Hermione's trunk was halfway though the compartment sliding door. "He promised!"

"Hermione. You're so naive. It's not the first time he's lied to us!"

"Ron, stop acting stupid. Of course he might have lied, but I'm not letting him getting out of it!" Hermione let go of her end of the trunk and stormed off, heads popping back inside as she walked down the corridor briskly, her cheeks red and her eyes flashing.

"Hermione!" Ron jumped over her trunk that was blocking his way out and ran after her. "Please, come back in. Think about being a Head Girl! It's what you've always wanted."

"I don't care!" came her reply, but she did miss a step when Ron mentioned her new position. Head girl WAS what she'd always aimed for, it'd been her dream. She'd worked so hard for, but sometimes things were just more important than work. She was already at the end of the wagon and ready to jump down on the platform with just her wand in hand, leaving her belongings behind, when she came face to face with…

"Harry?!"

"Sorry, I'm late," Harry said, pulling his trunk into the wagon, Hedwigs' empty cage in his other hand, having said goodbye to Mrs Weasly who he'd just crossed. Hermione had an irresistible need to slap Harry for have made her lose her temper with Ron-which actually wasn't an unusual casualty when it came to Ron. But before he knew what came next, he was in one of her air choking hugs.

"Harry, mate, you're here!"

"Do you mind leaving me some air?"

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, letting go of Harry and blushing lightly while Ron gave him a good slap on the back which made his glasses nearly fall off his nose. "Gave us a fright, Harry. We thought you'd gone for good." Hermione didn't know what to say, Harry was nearly as stubborn as her, she had her doubts that she hadn't convinced him that night in the Infirmary.

Ron led the way, Harry following with his trunk, Hermione behind. Again noses were drawn back into their compartments as the three friends passed. Harry turned his head back at Hermione and gave her- Hermione swore that she hadn't dreamt- a wink. She blinked, trying to put her thoughts back into place.

Back in the compartment, Ron put Hermione's trunk back and lifted Harry's up next to hers. "What held you up?" he asked Harry.

"Mad Eye Moody," he explained putting down Hedwig's cage. "Wanted the platform to be less crowded, letting me go on the train at the last minute. A Constant Vigilance thing."

"That sounds like Old Mad Eye Moody to me," Ron thought aloud. The train whistled and the Hogwarts Express was off.

"Sorry, but I wasn't able to send it." Hermione looked into her bag and took out a wrapped up parcel out, handing it to Harry. "Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry seemed uncomfortable as he took the parcel. "I think I'll open it later," he declared giving Hermione a smile and putting it away. She frowned, a little hurt. "What did you do this summer?" he asked her instead.

"I went to Krum's Manor, in Bulgaria, with my parents." But, she'd told him this already just before the Holidays, didn't he remember? She frowned, starting to get suspicious.

"Yeah, what did you do there?" Ron asked. "Didn't send any owls to us."

"The family has a 'shady' past. Viktor's Great grand-parents aren't what you could call 'clean'. A simple precaution. They're a Pure Blood Family."

"So, what did you do with Vikky?" Ron asked, a rather sly gin on his face.

"We studied-," Hermione replied quickly, seeming rather uncomfortable with the subject. "-we have our NEWTs this year. The Manor has one of the most complete libraries- of course Hogwarts' one is also rather complete- but…" Hermione decided that telling about her library events wasn't what was on Ron's mind. "…And other stuff that you won't find interesting enough to know."

"Meanwhile, you got us worried," Harry told her.

Rain pelted down on the Hogwarts Express a couple of hours later. Clouds had been threatening with a storm for a long while now and it had just started pouring down with water. Silence had fallen over the three, not daring to speak what they knew would come next. The Second War against Voldemort, Harry's fate. Hermione was pretending to read a book, but she would glance at Harry a couple of times in a while, he was frowning, looking out of the window. Ron had taken up reading a Quidditch magazine. Finally, Harry decided to brake the silence.

"Anyone in for a game of Exploding Snap?" Harry took out the cards from a pocket as he got up, and unfortunately let the packet slip from his hands, the cards floating down to the compartment floor.

"Sure," Ron said, throwing his magazine away after have had another look at a picture taken at a Quidditch match, Plymouth against Preston.

Hermione gaped, she hadn't expected this. She snapped her book shut and left it on her lap. "Isn't there more important things to do? First, there's our NEWTs. And I'm not going to be planning your revisions again."

"Hermione, can't you relax for even a minute?" said Ron. "Harry, guess what was the first thing she asked me."

"No, that's the third thing I asked you." Harry was busy picking the cards up one by one. "Harry, how can you be so calm?" Hermione finally asked, not believing what she was hearing. Relax? When Voldemort was out there?

Harry froze as he was about to pick up a rather disgruntled Queen of Hearts that was weaving her sword madly at him. If only they knew. "It's your last year at Hogwarts, Voldemort's loose, but you can't lose you head about it. I agree with Ron, you have to learn to relax a bit, or when we'll be in front of an important threat, you might just freeze up."

"Excuse me, but I don't see Mad-Eye Moody playing cards, because he wants to relax," Hermione told him trying to picture the Old Moody ever playing at something. "This is serious. My parents are Muggles, they could get hurt in this."

Harry didn't reply to this. Of course it was serious. But how much time did they have left before… something happened to them. Voldemort had tried to stay quite, but when he would strike, not much would be left standing. They were both right.

"Anyway, I've got my Head Girl meeting on the train before we get to Hogwarts." With this she got up and left the compartment, her head high, still a little stung from Harry's remarks.

"Harry, you didn't need to be so hard on her. We're a tad bit worried about… You-Know-Who." He grabbed black wizard robes and put them on. He then rummaged through his pockets. "Where is it?" He finally took out a Chocolate Frog Card out of his pocket; it looked a bit battered. "Look Harry," he said throwing it at Harry who caught it.

Harry chuckled slightly. On the Chocolate frog card was his portrait, he was sitting on his FireBolt, the scar on his forehead in plain view.

"Hermione would have had a fit seeing it. You're the youngest wizard ever to have been put on the Chocolate Frogs…" Ron looked at Harry guiltily. "I'm sorry, Harry I wasn't thinking about, You Know Who…" He knew how much hated his fame, brought by the death of his parents. No one would wish it.

Harry kept silent for a while. "It's Ok, Ron."

Ron sighed in relief. "Comin' to see Dean and Seamus?"

"I'll stay here," Harry said. Thunder struck outside, and the light in the compartment flicked off for a second.

Ron shrugged, "Ok. How do I look? Just in case I cross Cecilia."

"Still fancie that 6th year Huflepuff Beater?" asked Harry.

"What you're talking about, she's Chaser," said Ron, but he was too preoccupied about what Harry would say on his appearance to make much notice of the error. Harry looked at him up and down. Ron looked like… Ron. Lanky, tall, red hair and you clearly could see he was nervous, his ears were turning into a bright shade of pink.

"Fine, get her Tiger."

Ron left, still feeling a bit guilty about the Chocolate Frog Card, leaving Harry alone in the compartment with only the rain against the window for company, disturbing the silence. HArry sat down and started shuffling the cards and was about to fish something out of his pocket only to be disturbed by the door sliding open. Harry thrust the thing back in his robes.

"Harry." Harry looked up to find Neville Longbottom.

"Hey Neville. How was the holidays?"

Neville nodded. "Went to Ireland for a month with my Grand-Ma. Have you seen Hermione?" he asked. Harry was aware that Neville was looking at him strangely, a little pale in the cheeks. He also noticed a Head Boy pin on Neville's chest. His fourth year had taken away all trace of fear and had, finally, met up to Potion standards. Snape was now the last of his fears.

"She just left for the meeting… something wrong?"

"Harry. If you need me for anything, if there is anything that's happening… I would like to help." He had a look of pure determination, his lips formed a thin line of determination. Harry knew the fate of Neville's parents, driven mad by Bellatrix Lestrange, that feeling of vengeance.

Neville closed the door without another word, leaving quickly for the meeting. Finally alone once more, Harry took out a small leather pouch out of his pocket, loosening the lace to open it. He brought it up close to his mouth.

"Any news about Harry, Kingsley?" he asked. He then put the opening to his ear to hear the answer.

"Harry's still hasn't arrived with the Battle Wizard, Tonks. Time Turners are tricky."

"He better hurry, Hermione and Ron won't be fooled very long… And beside, I hate 'being' a guy." Tonks still had the Chocolate Frog in her hand. She gazed down on it, wondering where the famous Boy-Who-Lived could be at the moment.

Cliff-hanger.

Well, I hope that went Ok, so Harry's been using a time turner for something? Tonks can't be aware about all of Harry's life, but she has been filled in (how could she know about Cecilia? I can't miss out on the red haired twins…)

Oh, well… yawn, getting a bit late here, gotta get up early.

Enjoy then

Undine: thanks for the great enthusiasm

HarryLuva2004: I might hurt Harry, but I won't kill him… Voldemort might (suppose the Dark Lord is searching for 100 and 1 ways to get rid of Harry.) But well, he'll have Hermione before the end, I just hope Tonks won't mess up their friendship. Well, Hermione is a clever girl…

Oh, while I'm at it, can't remember where, but Hermione is actually a Greek name… I'll find where exactly, something in the Iliad, maybe. Well, it had to do with a royal family, I think (stopping babbling now.)

REVIEW! merci


	3. Battling the Storm

Things are becoming more interesting. The two first chapters were just warm-ups.

Battling the storm

Hermione looked at the rain splatter hard against the windows of the meeting room. She was still angry with Harry for have said such things. The light that hung over the long table flickered. The train rumbled under their feet. Neville came and sat down next to her, sending a brief smile towards her.

"Hello Neville," said Hermione trying to sound cheery. Neville had changed so much, except maybe for his small trait of shyness.

"Hi Hermione, how was summer with Viktor Krum?"

Hermione's cheeks turned red, again. "Does everybody know?" she asked quietly.

"Come on, Hermione, don't tell me you didn't know it was in Witch Weekly last week," said Padma Patil as she sat opposite Hermione. "Are you both really going out? Pavarti asked me to ask you... Just out of curiosity."

Hermione was saved by Professor McGonagall, followed by no other than Remus Lupin! However, she was displeased that Draco Malfoy and a fellow Slytherine were attending the meeting as well.

"Welcome to this new year at Hogwarts," McGonagall spoke up sternly, seeing that everyone was now there. "You probably have noticed some important changes already… You might remember Remus Lupin here present, former professor of Denfence Against The Dar Arts. Now," she said sitting down at the end of the polished table with Lupin at her right, "You have been chosen as Head Boys and Girls for you are leading figures of your Houses, a first in Hogwarts' History." She paused for a second, glancing at every face. "This year, numerous points will be rectified, suppressed, and newly appointed for the sake of students' safety. "

Remus Lupin picked up the explanations from there. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. As Professor McGonagall has just started to point out, each House has now their own Head Girl and Boy, on which great responsibility will be given this year, considering the new threats that have come upon us." It was all very formal. Hermione thought that Lupin had never looked so old, his hair, not only was it grey, but it had quite a few of strands of white.

The Train gave a slight lurch, the lamp dangling from the ceiling, swaying erratically, thunder growling overhead.

"Voldemort will soon be back to full strength." There were a couple of gasps at Voldemort's name, Hermione and Neville kept silent however, listening attentively. "Extra security has been put up against any attack from Death Eaters…"

"What kind of security?" Hermione asked, looking sideways at Malfoy, wondering if it was safe to actually mention anything in front of the Slytherine.

"Before we answer to any questions, or continue farther on," said McGonagall. "You will sign this parchment, titling you to your new responsibilities." Hermione knew there was more to it. "You will then be unable to speak or write about our meeting and your mission, willingly or not, under no exterior influence, to any of your comrades, parents or any other person, except, of course, your own Head of House... However, you must know that by signing, it entitles you to protect your fellow comrades as best as you can, at any cost."

"What if we refuse," Malfoy interrupted.

Hermione had made something a little similar to the magical parchment in her fifth year, not as complex but the principle had been the same. It'd been the beginning back then. Just a warm up before they world had become this dark place that was today.

"Malfoy, glad you spoke up." McGonagall gave him a piercing glare. Malfoy shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Head Boy and Girl is a serious position that no one should consider lightly." She got up, her face seeming indifferent to the Slytherin's antics, knowing full well what Malfoy's first intentions had been. "This is not a game, as some might expect, but a serious matter. If you intend to pull out at any moment in the future, I order you to leave right now… with the full knowledge that an auror outside the door will remove any memories of the few previous minutes.

"If expectations are not fulfilled, responsibilities put aside after the signature, drastic measures will be taken. I warn you that they are not petty punishments."

Malfoy's head wiped around towards the door, probably thinking that McGonagall was bluffing, but McGonagall never bluffed. Everyone had sworn they'd seen nobody outside in the corridor when they had entered the room.

As no one stood up to leave, McGonagall passed a quill and a piece of parchment to the students. Hermione watched as Malfoy forced his name down on the paper, the quill's tip scratching horribly as he wrote, then pass it to the Hufflepuff Head Girl, Susan Bones.

It wasn't such a bad idea after all, signing Malfoy in, Hermione thought. It would bind him to silence, and at the same time, bring him closer, with little hope, to their side of battle.

When the parchment and quill were finally handed to Hermione, she paused for a moment, still deep in her musing, watching the last name written down, Terry Boot, disappear. This meant she wouldn't be able to tell Ron, or Harry. They'd promised they wouldn't leave each other in the dark, to stay together. Harry had kept his promise and had returned to take the Hogwarts Express… And she was just about to…

"Miss Granger, a problem?" Professor McGonagall asked, her voice as stern as when she spoke to Malfoy.

"Yes." A couple looked at Hermione questionably. Remus smiled slightly to the young witch. "Voldemort will also be going after Muggles, will they be guarantied any protection?"

"If our number permits it, we will aid them."

"You're not answering my question," Hermione said flatly. The faces of her parents swam in her head. If she went back home, would they still be there?

"Miss Granger, I understand your worry. The Order goes against any Dark action. If you except being Head Girl, we will allow correspondence with Muggle Co-operation Subordinates. But only time will tell us what… will happen."

Hermione, her eyes cold, regretfully wrote down her name, which disappeared into the parchment as she gave it to Neville to sign as well.

"Now, first of all, you've all heard about the foreign students coming to Hogwarts," McGonagall started as Remus Lupin took the parchment and quill away. Hermione watched it disappear in the folds of his robes.

There was another flash of lightening, it didn't seem that the weather was getting any better.

Meanwhile, Tonks was still in the same compartment, waiting for Ron to return, wiggling her thumbs impatiently. What would happen if Harry didn't return? From the little she'd heard, Harry had gone back in time to train with the Head of the Battle Wizards, promising to be back on his birthday, which he didn't- and that was two days ago. That kid was in deeper trouble than ever, without mentioning of herself. She'd been chosen to replace Harry, being a full Metamorphmagus. Voldemort couldn't know that the Miracle Boy was missing, the whole world couldn't know that the Boy Who Lived had disappeared. They would all have a serious heart attack, without mentioning the Weasley boy and the smart witch Granger.

Tonks was deep in her musing when something went 'TANG' on the roof of the train, followed soon after by another. Tonks tried to look out of the window, pressing her face against the glass, putting her hands up to block out the light of compartment, but it was near impossible to see anything outside; rain was still showering down heavily.

'TANG' it came again.

"What the hell?"

'CRACK'

Tonks yelped falling back from the window onto the floor by surprise. There, on the windowpane was a plate-sized impact, cracks spreading slowly outwards, the window ready to fall apart. The rumbling of the thunder seemed louder than ever.

'TANG, tang tang TANG tang TANG' things were now pouring rapidly on the roof.

She stood up, examining the window. "Reparo!" she said waving her wand at it. The cracks disappeared, and Tonks seemed satisfied enough with it to be able to leave the compartment and ask her fellow aurors in the train under invisibility cloaks if something similar had happened to them.

Cries rose from the next-door compartments, Tonks jumped out of her own to the rescue.

Soaked first years were pouring out in the corridor. A small girl with curly brown hair had a large red lump on the side her face and was crying in her friend's shoulder.

"The window exploded!" a boy of about age eleven told Harry/Tonks.

"Marianne is hit!" another first year cried out.

'TANG tang TANG TANG'

"Don't worry, luv, I'll see to you, just a second." Tonks had altogether forgotten about her disguise of Harry Potter. She entered their compartment where buckets of rains were pouring in through the broken window. Tonks was quickly drenched.

"REPARO!" she yelled over the deafening noise of the storm. The window repaired itself with difficulty, but Tonks was relieved when it was finally back in place. She put a strengthening charm over it, just in case. The compartment had about an inch of water, she dried it quickly and led the first years back inside, giving the girl named Marianne a small healing charm, transforming the lump to a small bruise.

'TANG.' "Don't leave the compartment!" she told them shutting them inside. 'TANG'

Tonks ran down the aisle, a couple of more windows had cracks on them. She continued on, sending repairing charms at them as she passed.

'TANG TANG CRACK tang TANG'

"Frednerick! What's happening?" Tonks asked her fellow auror.

A pale man with long black hair appeared out of thin air. "Dunno, it looks like grail. Aren't you meant to be posting like Potter?" he asked flinging a couple of strengthening charms here and there.

'TANG TANG TANG CRACK crack TANG.'

Tonks sighed grimly. "I don't think it's usual grail, let me check up with Moody. He's up at the front." She took out her leather pouch and started to call for Mad Eye Moody. A couple of compartments had opened and girls and boys were looking out curiously.

'TANG TANG crack'

"Escape portkeys will be put at your disposition throughout the castle…"

Up in the meeting room, Moody had been standing quietly in a dark corner under his own invisibility cloak, listening to the discussion while his magical eye circled around. Everything seemed to be going as planned for the moment, until he first heard the grail falling on the roof, overlarge bits of ice, pelting down like bullets.

TANG TANG CRACK tang.'

"We're under Attack!" he yelled, his wand had not left his hand, shooting a large strengthening spell over the room then quickly left for the corridor. Hermione sat up quickly and followed, ignoring Professor McGonagall's warnings.

A couple of windows had already been broken in the corridor, letting the raging storm in while students were trying desperately to stay out of the corridor while other children were pouring out of their compartments. A ruckus of cries and yells completed the scene. Some were holding parts of their body where they'd been hit by grail, or cut by the shards of glass. 'TANG tang TANG'

"Dumbledore wouldn't listen to me when I told him to pretend the train was full and take them one by one on a broom… Nevermind, we'll do without."

Aurors were abandoning their invisibility to repair the windows and heal a couple of students. It was at that moment that Moody felt something vibrate in his pocket, he took out his own magical leather pouch and put it to his ear.

"MOODY HERE…' he yelled over the chaos, there was only a couple of windows left to be repaired, but the majority of the noise was coming from the frightened pupils. "Harry, stay where you are…" Tonks was on the other side of the 'pouch'.

'TANG tang TanG TANG'

"No, MAGICAL STORM! NO CURSES! JUST ROCK HARD ICE" Moody replied to Tonks. "ATTACK!" as he said this, the children nearest him started screaming in fear, others sobbing franticly. "PLAN B IS UP!" With this he disapparated with a 'POP' right to the front of the train.

It came as no surprise as he found the conductor still, on the floor, wind and rain pouring out of the broken front window, blending with the heavy amount of blood from the conductor's wound in the abdomen. The fire of the steam engine was left growling on it's own. Moody took no time for the wounded; he repaired the window with a swish of his wand, the rain kept outside for the moment. He was busy pulling levers up on the control panel when Professor McGonagall and Lupin apparated with a loud CRACK.

Moody already had his wand out towards the two. "How can I tell it's you!" he asked, his eye fixed on the two suspiciously. McGonagall froze in her lunge towards the wounded conductor.

'TANG TANG TANG'

"Alastor, for heaven's sake!" and she went back to tending to the plump conductor, whispering a couple of spells as Lupin joined Moody at the control panel.

"There's a tunnel not far away," Remus told Mad Eye Moody. "We could escape the storm for a while, as we wait for Dumbledore…"

"It's a trap! We can't go there! We'll be stuck, right in a perfect trap with no escape!" Moody said. " Dumbledore must not come! He'll leave Hogwarts too vulnerable!"

'TANG TANG TANG TANG!'

"We have no choice!" said the tired looking Lupin. "Strengthening Charms won't last for long! And we're not enough to make a shield charm over the whole train!"

"Then this will do the trick!" Lupin and McGonagall watched as Mad Eye Moody revealed a hidden panel, he thrust a lever up. There was an ear splitting screech of mechanisms and the deafening noise of hitting grail vanished, replaced by dull 'BOoong… Dunnn… Bong…'

"Some people sometimes forget that physical attack is sometimes as good as magic curses…" Moody told them. "Second is more deadly than the first, but it's the first you never expect… Now, how far is the tunnel?"

"Another…" Lupin started.

"Twelve miles!" Moody completed. "We need to leave the rails!"

"Harry what's happening?" Ron asked as he joined Harry/Tonks in the corridors. "Windows started bursting and…"

Ron had a gash on his cheeks, blood smudged around it as if he'd wanted to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

"Moody says it's an attack," Harry/Tonks told Ron. The grail had lessened and no more windows shattered to Tonks' relief. "But if Voldemort thinks a storm is going to do much good…"

The train lurched widely, sending Harry/Tonks and Ron and most screeching fourth years surrounding the two to the corridor floor, the lights flicking on off, the walls rattling uncontrollably, the sliding doors slamming shut or open depending on the movement. The train lurched again, this time, however, Harry/Tonks was able to stand up, clutching the railing. Taking her pouch back out, she called for Mad Eye Moody once more. Instead Remus Lupin's voice replied.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Ton.. Harry," Tonks corrected at the last minute. "what's happening. I thought for a moment we had derailed…"

"We are."

"What?"

"We're making for an escape. Lead every one into their compartments, tell everyone to hold on tight to something. Moody says Dementors are approaching rapidly." The communication was cut without any more details.

Thunder crashed once more outside.

Tonks's face couldn't be reassuring for Ron's own face went pale. "What is it?" The train lurched again, and Tonks wasn't able to hold on as she fell once more, her head smacking the wall.

"Everyone must get back in their compartments," she told Ron getting back up, rubbing the back of her head painfully. "We're going to derail, something about Plan B Moody decided to keep to himself."

Ron nodded, understanding what he had to do. "EVEYONE BACK IN THEIR COMPARTMENTS!" he yelled, pushing the fourth years away. "TRY AND HOLD TO SOMETHING!!!"

The first years went straight back into their compartments, Ron was impressive, not only he was taller than anyone else, but well, he was also Harry Potter's friend. Quickly the corridors were once more nearly empty as Ron rushed them back in with the help of Frednerick and other aurors.

"Fermatore," Tonks said, doing a kind of big swish of the wand, and all the doors were locked.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked Harry, but his friend, under Tonks's form had disappeared.

Hermione was one wagon away, clutching the railing also. She had to join Ron and Harry someway. She ignored the bruise on her forehead as she tried to get through the crowd. Luna Lovegood appeared out a compartment, seeming as if she'd just been having the most boring time of her life.

"Hello, Hermione," she said in a dreamy voice as they crossed. Her blouse had been ripped and slightly stained with blood. It didn't look like anything serious, though. "Is it already teatime?" she asked.

Everybody was now regaining their compartments, pushed in kindly, or a bit forcedly by the aurors. One was having trouble with first years who were clutching his cloak expectantly.

"No, Luna, someone's just reported it for the next day or so," Hermione replied acidly, unconcerned about Luna's antics, trying to get through, pushing a first year rather roughly. She didn't have time for this.

"Oh," said Luna, looking disappointed.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked her.

"We were having a chest game, and well, she's…" Luna's face dissolved, she looked tired, lost, and about to cry, all at once. "She's been hit… I don't know what to do."

Hermione pushed past her, and to her horror, found Ginny on the floor, blood seeping from the side of her face near her earlobe. The Weasley's red cheeks had disappeared. She looked, pale…

"Ginny! Oh please! Ginny!" Hermione crouched down at her friend's side between the fallen chest pawns. Ginny didn't respond to any of her cries. Hermione searched for a pulse, and to her relief, found one. "Hold on… Luna, find someone, an auror.. anyone."

Luna nodded, and was about to leave when the train lurched again. Hermione found herself falling forward, her balance taken, over Ginny's body, while Luna tumbled to the ground. The sliding door slammed shut. Panic was quickly rising. The lights went off as the train gave an almighty screech followed with another lurch.

Hermione scrambled back from over Ginny's form, and to her horror found her hands red with blood. "Ginny!" She jumped up as if stung and tried the door, but found it locked to her dismay. She pulled it with all her force, but it refused to open. From the yells from the compartments of both sides, she wasn't the only one having the same problem.

An auror walked past them, and Hermione banged on the glass pane loudly. "LET US OUT! My friend's hurt…" But he didn't give any notice to her pleas. She then tried the Alohomora on the lock, but this gave no change.

"I wonder if they care what happens to us…"

"Of course they care!" Hermione yelled at Luna, pulling on the door once more in frustration.

"Sometimes I feel they're only concerned about Harry," Luna confessed, stroking Ginny's hair away from her face.

"A healing spell… I must find one… I know." It was the only way. Hermione fell back down next to Ginny and tried to concentrate hard, blocking out the yells and screams from the outside, and the blood on her hands. She crossed her legs as Luna stepped back expectantly, her eyes red with unshed tears. This wasn't just a bruise or a small cut, if Hermione didn't manage to heal Ginny... Hermione breathed in heavily, she couldn't go wrong…and if she did, she dreaded what would happen. Beads of sweat threatened to run down her forehead.

Hermione lifted her wand, about to cast the spell. "Salv…" she started.

The Hogwarts Express swayed brutally and Hermione had to hold herself to the seat to not be pushed onto the unconscious Ginny once more. She was about to let go and attempt the cast the spell once more when there was an almighty SCREECH. Hermione forced her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth in pain. When it finally disappeared, she breathed in relief, her head throbbing painfully.

"What did you think it was?" Luna asked, her eyes round.

Ginny's body was taken by seizure as she tried to gasp for air.

"Don't have time to care." Hermione was back concentrating on her spell. Ginny's Blood was now soaking the ends of her robes. But something changed in the air, freezing Hermione in her second attempt. Something took her at the throat, like if a large stone had lodged itself there. Puffs of mist was now coming out from Luna and Hermione's mouth, and only faintly from Ginny's. Crisp ice sparkled on the window.

The compartment disappeared to a different time and place, to a very unpleasant memory.

Hermione hid behind a bookcase, trying to ease her breathing. Blood pounded sharply in her ears as she tried to make out any approaching step. If only she could reach the fireplace in the back rooms of Flourish and Blotts. Light streamed into the dark bookshop from Diagon Alley street and the fires that burnt there.

The serpent voice of a Death Eater echoed through out the empty shop. "Don't hide from me, Mudblood. You have no chance. Your wand is gone, and your precious friend are no where to be seen..." It made her insides turn horribly.

Harry Ron and herself had been separated just minutes ago. Ron was lying somewhere, poisoned, Harry had ran for help and hadn't come back, and she was about to die at the hands of Death Eaters.

With a surge of courage she pushed the bookcase with all her might, letting it fall onto the one next to it, bringing it down at the same time, then another in a domino effect. Books fell from their shelves. Hermione hope that her pursuer would be buried under them as she ran for it, but only to late.

Her feet were suddenly taken away from underself. She fell hard against the wood floor, the Death Eater looming over her.

"Do you know how much trouble a mudblood like you can be? Fortunately, things will be changing shortly."

Air seemed to be suddenly be missing, as she tried to remember how to breathe. She wondered if she would live. Would she be at Hogwarts next year? What would her mother say when she found out that her daughter…

The air started to boil, suffocating, like if someone had suddenly risen the temperature to unbelievable heights. And then fire was slowly spreading between the spilled books and fallen shelves, the unhealthy flame lighting the artificial night that had fallen over Flourish and Blotts.

"Who do I have here?" the Death Eater asked to himself aloud, his wand raised to Hermione's heart. "Potter's little Mudblood friend. What a pleasure." The way he moved, spoke repulsed her to the very point of wanting to spill all of her lunch out.

Maybe if she'd never met Harry, if she'd lived like a simple muggle she could have escaped all of this. Yes, and if everything could end now.

Hermione hadn't been expecting it to hurt as much. She let out a shrill cry that pierced her own ears. She swore she was burning alive! She was burning! It was a whole new world of pain and suffering. She could still see the light cast by the burning flames, the laughter of the Death Eater. At that precise moment, she thought it was finished for her. It was the end, and probably glad that it was so.

Until she saw Harry bursting out from the fire on top of the Death Eater, in roaring rage.

Hermione woke in stupor back in the compartment, soaked in her own sweat. She blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what had just happened to her. Luna was still at the other side, her eyes blank. It was then that Hermione's eyes fell back on Ginny's body. There was no more time to lose.

"Salvadremedria," she said in one breath, slashing her wand in some kind of blurry movement. Silver blue mist poured slowly out from the tip of her raised wand to Ginny's face. It seeped through her mouth and nose, disappearing into her body, illuminating it slightly with a faint glow before winking out suddenly.

Hermione blinked surprisingly. It was the first time she'd ever attempted the spell and… it seemed to have worked. Luna, who'd just come out of her stupor, was busy whipping the blood away from the side of her friend's face, but it wasn't bleeding anymore to Hermione's relief. Ginny groaned slightly, stirring on the floor.

"Dementors," Luna explained.

Satisfied enough with Ginny's state, Hermione got up and flung the tip of her wand at the door. "Respecto!" she yelled.

The door splintered in a rush of wind and shattered to shards of wood, leaving a hole large enough for Hermione to jump out into the corridor, which she did without waiting another second. Aurors had their wands out and were busy casting their Patronus', lighting the darkness outside with the silver glow of different animals galloping ahead.

Against the harsh light were dark figures fleeing the clouded sky. It was then that she realised what the this light was, it was the sun pouring from the heavens as the darkness dissipated. They had won this battle. She didn't know what she felt; relieved, happy, exited? Truthfully, she felt empty.

A large stag thrust his head at the last Dementors that were now only faint black dots in the distance. A small smile formed itself. Harry. She ran to the window, gazing out in the expanse of the sky and realised that they'd left the rail tracks, and were, actually… flying.

Hermione heart sank, closing her eyes tight. She'd never liked flying, and knowing that a 100 tone train was floating on air… wasn't making her feel easy. But they were still alive, and it was an excuse enough for Hermione to have a peek, not that she would confess to anyone later… Flying had always been a dangerous business. She tentatively went back to Luna and Ginny's compartment, thinking that after all, she might feel sick. How would they land?

The doors seemed to have unlocked and most people were looking out of the windows now with exited cries, pointing out at something in the sky or down bellow at the ground (where Hermione had refused to look). She saw Neville nod at her from afar, a grin plastered on his face.

"Hermione," Ginny cried out with a tired smile. When Hermione went back to Luna's compartment, she found her friend sitting up from the floor. The flood of blood had disappeared from the ground, probably with the help of one of Luna's spells, before Ginny woke up. "Thanks."

Seeing Ginny well made Hermione forget most of her uneasiness, but back in a dark corner of her mind, she knew this was only the beginning.

"What's that?" asked Luna, pointing at something in Hermione's hand.

Hermione looked down and realised she was fingering a small piece of parchment. "Oh," she said, "just something I had in my pocket," Hermione lied putting it away.

Oh well, a long chapter, you have.

READ it? LIKED it? HATED it? COMMENTS would be great! REVIEW!!!


	4. Omens in the Dark

It seemed like Dawn all over again. The sky had turned to a golden hue, the clouds to purple where the few sunrays would touch them. After the end of the heavy storm, small drops of rain had fallen from the sky, gleaming like shinning stars before disappearing down to the earth bellow. Harry didn't have time to contemplate anything of this; he sped behind the flying Scarlet Steam Engine, it's wagons bobbling up and down.

It wasn't Dawn, but Sunset, and it seemed to Harry, that the night would be darker than ever.

The Dementors had left. His Patronus stag had now long winked out of the sky. But, he was late, late of two days. He hadn't had time to think about Ron or Hermione, but now that the threat was at bay, their faces swam in his head. Hermione would be probably mad; Ron would keep a grudge for a couple of days, but then what? He would have to explain.

Would they understand?

Harry thrust his broom up, heading straight for the clouds. He was frozen to the bone, his cloak soaked from the rain, his black hair plastered to his forehead, still full of water. He'd flown right through the storm, towards the train, lightning taking him for target, and the grail… The grail hadn't been the worse, with the help of a shield charm, the ice had only bounced off his advancing form. He'd flown for hours, fought off Dementors and two daring Death Eaters. He hadn't felt the cold back then, or the fatigue. The rush had left no place for such things. Blood had pounded in his ears as he flew, his body leaning against his broom, increasing the speed. But now, oh, he felt the cold alright and the weight of weeks without sleep, both now assaulting him at the same time.

The clouds swallowed him whole, and Harry felt safe for a while. It felt good to fly, it felt like freedom. He swooped around a large mass of fluffy white, just to feel the rapid flows of air. But soon he had to descend once more towards the ground.

He watched as the rather battered Hogwarts Express descended gradually towards Hogsmeade's train station. Harry heard the rails screech as the wheels came into contact with the ground.

He saw the students pouring out on the platform and tried to make out his two friends, but couldn't risk coming any closer to the station. He gave his broom a slight thrust to the left and he flew over towards the castle, black form against the setting sun. Over Hogwarts' grounds he went, his feet touching the top of a couple of trees that had itched their way apart from the Forbidden Forest, then over Hagrid's smocking hut and towards Hogwarts' front oak doors.

Changing his mind suddenly, Harry pulled his broom up and shot over the Front Doors and towards the towers, swaying between the stone pillars, glancing in a couple of windows as he passed. Unfortunately, something had been changed without his realisation.

A cold, hard hand struck out briskly, catching the end of Harry's cloak, jerking him out of the reverie that his flight had caused.

He hung from the grip of a large black form which hissed angrily as it shook Harry over a drop of forty feet.

Fortunately, Harry kept enough sense to not let his grip lighten on the handle of his Firebolt. He struggled, overhanging from the hook like arm. Swinging on his broom, he gave such acceleration, that the figure lessened it's grasp out of cheer stupor.

Harry landed on the roof with a thud, his wand already out and raised towards his aggressor.

"Freindlam!" Harry cried out, shooting a blue jet of light at the black form that advanced towards him, feline like. The spell bounced off the creature harmlessly.

"Striklamienta!" the red jinx did the same, falling away as if it had been a simple breeze. The thing groaned, it's footsteps heavy. It seemed ready to pounce.

With a last effort, Harry gritted his teeth, ready to throw one of the four Spells of Crumb. "Grinderlorma!" Purple lightning struck the thing, the licks of energy clinging to the form and then… it crumbled to rubble.

The last rays of light illuminated what seemed to be a pile of rough stone. Harry looked at it puzzled as the sun set for good, lights in the tower windows turning on like as many fireflies in a swamp, then night took over Hogwarts.

Something shifted behind Harry. He reeled around, trying to face the new threat. "Lumos," he whispered and his wand spread light from it's tip.

Something enormous loomed over him, much bigger than the last one. Fangs gleamed dangerously. It's mouth hung wide-open, showing rows after rows of sharp teeth. Three eyes peered down at him, a great big massive paw raised over Harry's head, it's claws out. It's red eyes reflected the light from Harry's wand like mad fire.

"Grinderlorma!" Harry cried again, pointing his wand at it. The purple energy wrapped itself around the great form with an ear splitting 'CRACK'. However, the spell didn't have any effect on the monster, and Harry had to throw himself out of harm's way, avoiding getting grounded by the creature's paw as it pounded down on the roof, the tower trembling on it's foundations. He stood up only to find another grotesque face of a wild animal looking down at him.

Harry called his broom and jumped on it once more, escaping the lashing monster, it's enormous mouth missing Harry by an inch as it tried to swallow him whole.

"Maximus Lumos!" Like fireworks it whizzed out in a whirlwind of sparks and colour, forming a large ball of energy. It illuminated the dark for an instant, and like falling white flakes it disappeared with a 'WOOSH'. It was enough for Harry to make out a dozen, no hundreds of prowling creatures around him in the night, sharp wings spread out, deformed bodies ready to pounce on him. Distracted for a second, something hard picked him up and flung him off the tower.

Harry's wand escaped his grip and fell lower down, still casting light.

Harry caught the side of the tower just in time, swinging dangerously from the roof's gutter that creaked under his weight and grip, his feet kicking out at the wall as he tried to push himself back up. With a hard breath, he pulled himself up in a single motion. Scratching at the tiles as he tried not to slip off. He stood up, his eyes wide as, in the poor light, he saw a winged creature, looking very much like a dinosaur, flying directly at him.

A shrill whistle was blown from afar, followed by many others, like echoes in the night.

With a screech the flying animal passed over Harry's form and away into the darkness. The stone creatures (they could be made of stone to be that hard) seemed to have frozen in any of their movements, immobile like any lifeless statues.

Harry breathed. What were these dangerous creatures doing here, at Hogwarts? Serious damage could have been inflicted on him if something, or someone hadn't intervened, stopping their attack on Harry.

He crouched down at the edge of the roof, looking down at his still illuminated wand. He thrust his hand out, and with a silent order, his wand flew up directly into his palm. He straightened up, finding his broom not far away on the roof, intact to his relief. He mounted it and flew to the Astronomy Tower, gazing down at the stone creatures, their heads following him as he passed above them. Their silent gaze made Harry shudder, the hairs on the back of his neck stir uncomfortably.

Hermione spotted Ron as soon as she jumped out of the Hogwarts Express onto Hogsmeade's platform. She ran to him relieved to see him looking plainly alive.

It seemed that Hogsmeade had taken a good shower from the heavens before their arrival, Hermione had already stepped into a couple of puddles, and her feet were already wet. The air itself seemed to be holding water, making the air crisp cold. A couple of people already had pink cheeks and ears, puffs of mist forming as they breathed or talked.

"You're alright, Hermione?" Ron asked her as she finally joined him, noticing a bruise on her forehead.

"I'm fine…I think, and you?" She raised her hand to Ron's cheeks where blood had smudged and dried. She still felt shaken from the whole experience. If Ginny hadn't woken up, she dreaded what could have happened. "Your sister got hit-" seeing Ron's falling face, Hermione quickly added that she was actually out of harms way, even if Hermione did recommend that she went to the Hospital Wing right away, just in case.

Ron took her in large hug "How can I thank you?" he asked, relieved.

"That's what friends are for," mumbled Hermione in his chest, as he refused to let go. A smile was quickly catching on. They were alive, and the memories that Hermione had experienced on the train which had reappeared with the dementors, were nearly forgotten. It had been just that, another bad dream. They were well and breathing, and for the moment, she tried not to think about anything dark, but was quickly failing as she thought about her new duties as Head Girl. "Where's Harry?" she asked searching for her friend.

"He's back with the aurors, well, mainly with Mad-Eye-Moody, clearing some stuff up. He said he would join us in the Great Hall for the Sorting."

Hermione nodded at this, giving a last glance at the train as Ron and she left towards the black carriages that would take them up to the Main Doors of Hogwarts. It was their final year… Which reminded Hermione that they had their N.E.W.T.s to see to as soon as possible.

"I'm going to find Ginny," Ron said. "I'll be back in a minute."

"'irst years, this way!" Hermione heard a booming voice call the first years. She turned to find Hagrid towering over the arriving students that looked up at him unsure if they should follow him or run for it. She headed towards him.

"Hagrid!" Hermione called, waving her arm over her head.

"Hello Hermione! Good to see ya!" Hagrid said patting her on the shoulder as she got to the piling first years, who seemed to ease when they saw Hermione talk friendly with the large man with the doubtful and enormous fur coat. "How was your summer?" Saying this, a dark cloud seemed to pass over his face, sobering his expression, but it quickly left.

"I went to Bulgaria, to see Viktor Krum with my parents," she told him.

"So did ya. That's the Bulgarian Seeker ain't it?" He lifted a large eyebrow with a grin. "Nothing more goin' on with Krum? Been in touch since Fourth year, haven't ya?"

Hermione had the decency to blush in front of the First years. "You're taking the First years to the Lake?" she asked to change subject. She wished that people would

"Nah, not this year, go in the carriages… just in case, ya know." The same worried expression clouded his face. "And after what I've heard on the train, you've just got out of som' pickle."

"But there was Harry Potter!" a first year that was listening to their conversation spoke up, his eyes gleaming. "He made the Dementors flee! And you're his best friend, right?" he asked pointing at Hermione with his finger.

Hermione smiled at him, her brown eyes tired. She headed to the carriages, the Thestrals still invisible to her eyes, and entered an empty coach, now waiting for Ron, Ginny, Luna... and Harry.

Hermione sat back, resting her head against the side of the carriage, a headache slowly creeping up. She felt washed out of all enthusiasm, as if all her energy had been stolen without her noticing before. It seemed like she had aged years in less than a day. She yawned, pulling her hand up to cover her mouth.

'_You're his best friend.' _

Making sure that neither McGonagall or any aurors were too close, she took out the small piece of parchment from her pocket. Hermione still couldn't believe it'd been so easy to fool them. She'd ripped this off from the Contract Parchment as she distracted Professor McGonagall by asking about muggle protection, even Mad Eye Moody hadn't noticed the ordeal.

She placed it in a small book, 'The Great Dictionary of Magic Abnormalities and Dysfunctions' She then made a small sealing charm over it to keep it shut. Satisfied, Hermione hid it back in her cloak just as Ron, his arm around a rather good looking Ginny came back, followed by Luna that was still quite pale in the cheeks from the fright.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked once more.

"Special orders from Moody, he gets his own carriage," Ron told her.

The carriage lurched forward and the coaches, like black beetles, wobbled up towards Hogwarts, leaving Hogsmeade behind.

Ron was busy fussing over Ginny, who tried to convince him that she was perfectly fine while Hermione looked out of the carriage's window. The sky was clearing just as the sun was setting. She wondered about Harry's strange behaviour, did it have anything to do with the aurors? He hadn't seemed himself, if that was even possible. She then started thinking about her new responsibilities towards the school as Head Girl. They'd taken every necessary precaution, would it be enough? If there was an attack on castle, she and Neville would have to lead their Gryffindor House straight out of Hogwarts… and she wouldn't be able to stay with Harry or Ron and fight by their side in the last battle.

Hermione tightened her cloak around herself as she peered out of the carriage window; they were steadily approaching Hogwarts' Gates.

As the Sun was finally disappearing, Hermione squinted to have a better look at the Castle. It seemed there were flashes of light amid the towering peaks of Hogwarts. Before she could make out anything more, thick acacias hid the view just as night fell.

She turned her attention to her red hair friends, and more particularly to Luna Lovegood. She sat silently in the corner, her exuberant eyes still a little red from the tears, her usual radish earrings swinging to the carriage's movements. She was staring at Ginny, without blinking once in a whole minute. Luna then adverted her unflinching gaze to Hermione, giving the Head Girl a small, worried smile.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, Ron bumped his head backward to Ginny's and Luna's amusement. They climbed down into the little courtyard in front of the Great Gates. There were a couple surprised cries, and some scurrying until Hagrid's booming voice calmed them down.

"Nothing t' worry about. They're new Security, now go ahead to the Great Hall, First years follow me."

Flanking the high, thick oak doors, were two immense statues, ten feet tall, sitting perfectly still, their spiked tails curled around their paws, their large grimacing heads looming over the arriving students. They were menacing enough. Hermione looked up at them with no surprise, neither did Neville or any of the other Head Girls and Boys. These Gargoyles would be their First Defence against any of the Death Eater's attack.

"A Gargoyle attacked my Dad once, in Paris at the Cathedral," a Third Year was telling his friends. "Broke his arm. Needed five Sentinels to calm it down, and Dad was warned to not come back. Talk about a grudge, Dad had only tickled it to see if could move."

Harry was nowhere in sight.

She walked up the steps without giving the gargoyles another glance. The red eyes that gleamed in the faint light of the carriages' lamps followed the students as they entered. Ron had stopped next to one and was gazing up at it's deadly jaw.

"Wonder what they eat," he said aloud.

"Ron," Hermione called pulling him by the arm and away from the deformed beast. "They don't eat, they're made of stone." She didn't like the creatures one bit, they weren't exactly known for their remarkable intelligence.

The Great Hall was once more lit with thousands of floating candles, the four House tables were still there, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, from left to right. The ceiling above hung with dark clouds. This could have been a usual school year, expect for the added places up at the Staff's table. The three friends sat at the Gryffindor table, Luna heading to the Ravenclaw one. Dean and Seamus soon joined Ron and Hermione.

"Alright after the trip?" Seamus asked them. He didn't seem to have come round after the attack, and was still shaking a little. "Don't know if I should be relieved with Gargoyles keeping guard, you know," he said sitting down next to Ron. "Stone brains and all."

"I'm sure Dumbledore has them very well trained," Hermione told him, trying to reassure the Seventh year boy. Seamus glanced at her Head Girl badge.

"Heard about the Exchange Students?" Dean said excitedly. "Never saw a fairy of my life..."

As Professor McGonagall placed the battered brown Sorting Hat on the stool in front of the Staff table, all discussions faded away. The Hat cleared it's voice and started the annual song.

"Here again are seated in this Great Hall

Like many times before

The Four Houses, together but alone

Their hearts turned to stone.

The Cold Wind has come again,

And as you shiver out in the open,

The clouds will loom over the plain

As you shall fight until the end.

Gryffindor might slay many foe,

And Hufflepuff stand against the snow

Ravenclaw deceive the enemy

And Slytherin protect sincerely,

Only bound and together,

Shall you defeat the Dark Lord.

Here again are seated in the Great Hall

Like many times before

The Four Houses divided

Fate and Destinies already decided.

Spring might never rise from the Cold,

And Winter be your only grave,

But hope and glory have not been sold,

To no one you shall be slave.

Love and Friendship is still yours.

So Hogwarts of Four,

That you be of Daring Gryffindor,

Or clever as Ravenclaw,

To Hufflepuff always true and faithful

Or of Slytherin, of the old school…

Here you shall stand in the Great Hall

Like many times before

The Four Houses proud and tall

United under the lore."

The Great Hall fell silent with the last echoing verses of the Sorting Hat, the rip for mouth closing. The students glanced at each other questioningly. The Sorting Hat had never mentioned Voldemort in any of it's songs before, not even in the warning it had given two years ago. This time it had actually given an omen of death.

"Under the lore? What lore?" a Fourth year Hufflepuff whispered.

The First Years looked terrified at the Hat's song, and had taken a couple of steps back, some were actually glancing at the entrance from where they had come in.

"What lore?" Ginny asked too, quickly regaining her senses.

"Lore can also mean knowledge, teaching," Hermione told her looking grim, thinking hard about the meaning of the song. It was clearly referencing to the Death Eater attack and Voldemort's rise to power. Could the Cold Wind have any connection to the muggle Cold War?

"Has anyone heard about a 'sincere' Slytherin?" said Ron, rather puzzled about the whole ordeal. He shot a dirty look towards the Slytherin table, and more particularly at Malfoy, surprised that the git was still there this year with his farther publicly declared Death Eater.

"Now let the Sorting be attended to!" Professor McGonagall declared opening a roll of parchment, from which she read out the first name on the list of First Years. "Abigdale Leliane!"

The Great Hall had calmed down. Hermione looked up at the Staff table as Abigdale Leliane became Hufflepuff. Professor Lupin was sitting next to Professor Sinatra. Dumbledore who was listening attentively to the Sorting, had a dark wizard seated beside him. There was another new witch, thin and unusually tall, who contrasted terribly with the tiny Professor Flitwick. Hagrid, who was sitting at the end of the table, towered over a small Asian witch.

'Cardigan Healus… Dimwit Dorothy… Duranthrill Octavus…" Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff. Cheers erupted from different tables as the First years were divided between the Houses. Hermione wondered where Harry had gone off to again. His place was empty next to Ron's.

Hillfred Guilliem became the first Gryffindor and Hermione clapped her hands with the others as the small boy headed towards their table.

Then more names followed, First Years pulling the Sorting Hat over their head. "Jered Holly… Kanon Sideralia…" and so on, finishing with Wart Winifred and Xineth Oliver. Three more boys and four girls had joined Gryffindor table, each getting their share of applause.

McGonagall regaining her seat at the Staff table just as Professor Dumbledore sat up, tinting his wand against his glass to have the attention of the numerous students.

"Before I forget with the approaching feast," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Welcome to this new year at Hogwarts. I would like you to greet our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers. Professor Guilduim." He mentioned to the wizard sitting next to him. "Professor Lupin that has joined us once more." Remus Lupin stood up and gave a curt nod to Dumbledore. "Professor Agresti." The thin witch stood up. She actually was taller than the Headmaster. "And Professor Xio Zong." It was the Asian's witch's turn to get up.

"I might remind you a couple of important rules," Dumbledore continued on. "The Forbidden Forest is like it's name, forbidden to all students. Magic in the corridors between courses is, as Mr Filch, the caretaker told me to remind you, not authorised.

"I would like to say a couple of words on this new school year. As most must have heard, Hogwarts will be greeting foreign students this term. A première in this School's history. New horizons will be opened, an excellent opportunity to meet and familiarise one's self with the outside world. Now, before I make you wait for too long… Tuck in."

Food in plenty appeared on all four tables, and everyone started pilling Potato Wraps with Corn and other such good thing on their plates.

"He didn't say when they would be arriving," said Ron before munching on his chicken wings.

"Suppose it's got to do with 'unifying' thing the Sorting Hat talked about," remarked Ginny.

The mood wasn't very light, what with the earlier attack and the Sorting Hat's song.

Harry still hadn't arrived, and Hermione and Ron weren't the only ones who'd noticed this. A couple of Hufflepuffs were pointing their way and the Slytherins weren't making much effort to keep their conversations discreet on the matter.

"Malfoy's a Head Boy too," Hermione said.

Ron stopped munching on his corn. "You must be kidding, I thought Neville was Head Boy."

"There's two by House now," Hermione said, scooping some Fisherman's Pie on her plate.

"You get your own room, don't you?" Ginny asked.

"And study," Hermione added. "Bathroom too." She wouldn't have to share Pavarati and Lavender's nonsense girl talk all day, but she knew she would miss them in the end.

"It sounds worth being a Head Girl," Ginny said dreamily.

"If you don't count patrolling at night and endless meetings. I have one per week with Professor McGonagall."

"Oh yeah… Percy used to-" Ginny stopped in her sentence too late.

The table around Ron became uncomfortable as Ginny named her and Ron's older brother.

Desert finished, the Great Hall was soon filling out, the prefects leaving with the First Years, showing them the way. Then the other years started leaving, yawning tiredly, following behind at their own rhythm. Hermione watched as Malfoy sat up with a larger group of cronies than usual. Head Boy seemed to be suiting him rather well. Pansy Parkinson didn't seem to have taken the news of being left out very well, glaring daggers at the Slytherin Head Girl, Blaise Zambini. Hermione wondered if it was necessary to risk their heads with the Slytherin, was it worth it? Only time would tell, and Hermione promised herself, that if Malfoy crossed the line of treachery once, she would make sure that he left Hogwarts for good.

As they climbed the main stairs, Hermione saw, from ahead, what was unmistakably Tonks with orange flashing hair. The auror waved at them, pocking a Third year in the head, to which she excused herself, and rushed over to Ron and Hermione.

"Hey kiddos, how was summer, didn't get to much of a fright on the way here?" Tonks had a grin plastered on her face, Ron and Hermione exchanged questioning glances.

"Summer was alright," Ron told her without giving more indication. "Hermione went to Viktor Krum's Manor."

"Really? On the good side of an International Quidditch Star, huh?" She winked at Hermione.

_Harry turned his head back at Hermione and gave her, Hermione swore that she hadn't dreamt, a wink. She blinked, trying to put her thoughts back into place._

Hermione stared up at Tonks from the lower step. This explained Harry's strange mood on the train. It couldn't be, could it? "Orange suits you better than jet black." Hermione said, waiting for Tonks' reaction. The Auror's face fell a little. "Where's Harry?" Hermione added, waiting for some sort of confession that would give her reason.

"Could never fool you, Hermione," Tonks said, her usual cheery personality dimmed. "He's waiting for you on the fourth floor, next to the Mad Witch statue."

Tonks gave them no more indication, and continued her way without another word.

"What was all that about?" asked Ron when they arrived at the Fourth Floor, rather confused about the exchange between the two women. They walked down the gothic corridor together, searching for the statue.

"It wasn't Harry on the train," Hermione told him after have made sure that the busy stairs were out of earshot. "It was Tonks under disguise."

"That explains the cards," said Ron.

"And why he didn't already know that I'd gone to Viktor's."

"And his lack of reaction to the Chocolate Frog Card," Ron muttered under his breath, remembering when he gave the card to Harry. He would have thought that his friend would at least get a little angry. But the only sign of emotion had been a simple shrug.

"What Chocolate Frog Car?" asked Hermione trying to remember a particular discussion.

"Oh, nothing," Ron quickly added. "Wonder if it was another one of Mad Eye Moody's mad plan? The Harry swapping, the train flying... But how can you know if this is going to be the Real Harry too?"

"You can see to yourselves," said a voice as a figure left the shadow of the Mad Witch statue who had her arms brandished, her face contorted by a silent scream that made her eyes pop out incredibly.

"Harry…" Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. This, this wasn't the Harry they had left at the end of last year's school term, he didn't resemble Tonks' interpretation either.

Harry had grown, but still not as tall as Ron. His shoulders seemed broader. But this was not the only change. His round glasses had disappeared from his nose, so had the boyish expression that would seep over every now and then. He was wearing his black school robes, patched up and ripped at certain areas, his cloak dangling from his arm. It seemed to have been burnt at some extent. But it was his face that had changed the most. It looked hard, and in the light the corridor torches cast, Hermione noticed that his green eyes had darkened. What had happened to him?

"Hermione, Ron…" He spoke their names as if they might be ghosts and he was only imagining their presence.

"Mate, what happened to you?" Ron said staring at his best friend. "You look…" the words failed him.

Harry turned his gaze away and walked up to a door. He opened it and mentioned them to follow. Ron and Hermione entered the deserted classroom, Harry closing it behind them. He then quickly lit his wand. A giant mirror was leaning against the wall, it's golden frame engraved with figures. The mirror of Erised.

Harry finally broke the silence. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt in the attack?" he asked, concerned with the wellbeing of his friends.

Hermione spoke up as Ron was too dumfounded about Harry's appearance to speak himself. "We're alright. Ginny got hit, but she came out of it fine. You were there… weren't you? I saw the patronus stag and well…"

"Yes, I was outside, on my broom…"

"Where have you been?" asked Ron, after have finally got out of his stupor. "I mean Tonks was posing for you, right?"

"Yes, she told me, I wasn't aware first. Moody decided it was the best, so no one would get suspicious. I was late..."

Hermione didn't know where to start either. "What happened to you in the summer?"

Harry turned his gaze to her. "Nothing happened to me in the summer, but, on my birthday. I got shot."

"By who?"

"By what?"

"By my Uncle, with a gun. He was out of control, and he started shooting anywhere. I got hit in the shoulder. I'm fine now," he added seeing Hermione's horror struck face. "A gun is a muggle weapon," he told Ron noticing his confused expression. "I was sent to St Mungo's for care. And Dumbledore came to visit me with Moody," he told them, leaving the Battle Wizard's presence out of the story altogether.

"Where did you go, if you were late?" Hermione asked. "Another attack or…"

"No, not another attack. I went…" Harry seemed to be weighing what he was about to say. "I went back in time, with a Time-Turner, back of about a year."

Hermione gasped. But if he had gone back in time… what could make him possibly want to go back in Time of a year? The Attack on Diagon Alley? But no, as far that Hermione could remember, the attack had taken place, she still had the scars… "What for?" she asked. Time Travel had consequences, what would they be this time?

"You told me that had to learn as much as possible, no?" Harry told Hermione. "I took the advice. I spent a year in Nepal, training for the Final Battle."

Neither Ron nor Hermione knew what to say to this. The room fell into an eerie silence, none of them tempted to speak. They wanted to ask Harry thousands of questions. But deep down, they knew. The Final Battle was close, and Harry had decided that, to have better chances of living, and protected his friends, he had to become stronger, stronger than Voldermort. But at what cost?

Hermione traced Harry's gaze to the mirror of Erised, wondering if he still saw his parents there, or something more. She refused to let herself get lost in the reflection of pompous desires of her unconsciousness which would never get to be fulfilled.

Hermione walked up to him, and seizing his free hand, leaned up and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, taking his gaze off the mirror. The skin of his palm was rough, but she gave no attention to it, squeezing it lightly as she looked up into his green eyes. People don't need something else to tell them what they want. They have to find out by theirselves.

They left the room together for the corridor, still not exchanging any words. Hermione finally let go of Harry's hand and took a step back, not without remorse.

"We'll see you tomorrow then," Hermione said. "Down at breakfast in the Great Hall."

Harry nodded before leaving with Ron. Hermione stayed in the corridor until her two friends disappeared from view.

Oh, here's the chapter then. Things will be getting more interesting… Well I hope. New time tables, Hermione's new responsibilities, Slytherin hatred, and much more. Changed the summary, passed over previous chapters once more, to get rid of some errors. And there. 4th chapter. Woooo, I've never been writing such long chapters before. I keep wanting to put more, but I might just run out of ideas in the future, so keeping them for then.

Any COMMENTS? Good or bad, I take both! Review please! Thanks.


	5. Unspeakable Truths

Chapter 5: Unspeakable Truth 

"Drooling Drops," Harry said in a rush.

The stone gargoyles shifted, freeing the way to Dumbledore's office.

He was angry. How could they? It had been his father's, and Harry's since third year. One of the last threads to James and Sirius' life. Taken away. Stolen.

He'd been rummaging through his trunks, throwing his clothes and other possessions out, flinging them to the floor in rage.

"What's going on?" Ron had asked tiredly from his bed. He'd just woken up at Harry's ruffling and cursing.

"They've taken it. They brought my trunk to Hogwarts… it can't have disappeared. I left it in here. I'm sure." It was all nonsense rambling to Ron. "It can't be anyone else but them."

"Who? What has been stolen?"

"I'm going to see Dumbledore. I'll be down for breakfast," he'd said, throwing his things back in trunk without a second glance, leaving out Hermione's present on his bed. With these last words he had left Ron in the Gryffindor dormitories for the Headmaster's office. He'd sped through the corridors, his nerves tingling in an uncomfortable way.

And now he climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office two by two. Only last night he'd been here. Dumbledore had wanted to know everything; Harry had pushed it away until farther notice. "Don't let it rest for too long," the Headmaster had told Harry advisedly.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard raised tones; Moody's and the Battle Wizard's angry voices. Fawkes, the Phoenix was no where in sight, his perch empty.

"Now you did what you wanted with the boy, prepare him to face Voldermort with your conjurer tricks, you might as well disappear from Hogwarts and leave Potter. Take your ghost army with you."

"Aurelius- Alastor. Now is not the time."

"We won't depart Hogwarts, you can't force us to leave. If Potter is the saviour, we will protect him."

Harry had paused behind the door, ready to run in… But they were talking about him. After the hard year training, restless dreaming, the numerous aches in his limbs after a days' of workout, the energy drenching spells, the meditation, always driven by the idea of vanquishing the Dark Lord, to be finally be free, to just be able to live… But something more had changed in him, he'd been broken, and fixed up, his spirit angered to blind rage. But it was worth it, for Ron, for Hermione, for the Weasleys and the tired Lupin. For James, Lily and Sirius…

"You speak of him like some kind of divine person, like some muggle God. He's only human!"

"Hardly anymore. Maybe you should revise that eye of yours, it's getting blind to the most obvious of things."

"Let's see what the boy has to say to this," Moody had declared gruffly. "Harry, stop gawking at the door and enter."

Harry pushed open the door his anger nearly forgotten. Dumbledore sat at his desk, a calm but grave expression on his face while Aurelius and Moody were facing each other off. The battle wizard was gripping his black staff so tight his knuckles had turned to a very pale white.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked between a mouthful of scrambled eggs, looking up at Hermione who was prowling over a 'very' long roll of parchment, its end falling off the side of the table. She had it beside her bowl of cereals. She had her hand raised with her spoon full, while followed the writing with the tip of her wand.

"Huh?" Hermione asked, slowly taking her attention away from the roll. She put down her spoon and turned around to face Ron.

"What are you reading? We haven't even got our time tables yet," Ron told her. "You're not studying, are you?" He snatched a piece of bread and wiped his plate, ready to take some more scrambled leggs.

"Oh, it's a list of books," Hermione explained. "As Head Girl, I have price reductions on Flourish and Blotts, they're almost free. I was just taking a peek before class." Ron rolled his eyes at this. "When did Harry say he was coming down?"

"He's in with Dumbledore, at the moment. He should soon be here. Or he'll miss breakfast." Ron eyed the last piece of Turtle Pastries.

Hermione rolled up her list, placing it in her bag before going back to finishing her breakfast.

The Great Hall was buzzing with life, as if no one had really remembered, or had just decided to forget about the Sorting Hat's song. However, the attack on the Hogwarts Express was still fresh on everyone's mind. Some were actually saying they'd seen a fire spitting dragon. Hermione snorted loudly at this. Dragons absolutely hate storms and prefer to stay under brush or in caverns, with a preference for warm spaces, such as volcanos...

Hermione was taken out of her thoughts as Professor McGonagall finally handed out the schedule.

"You must be kidding!" Ron exclaimed when he got his. "We can't have class on Saturday morning!"

"Do I look like someone who kids, Mr Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked him sternly, before continuing her way around the Gryffindor table.

"Hermione! Our weekend as been eaten up! Can't you talk to-"

"Ron, I think it's because of the added Defence Against the Dark Arts hours," she said looking down at hers. "We have triple Defence this afternoon with professor Xio Zong. Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon too."

Ron asked to have a peek at a Fifth year's timetable that was sitting beside him. "They've got a little less than us, but we didn't have as much in Fifth year either."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other knowingly. This wasn't a good sign.

"I've got a meeting tonight with Professor McGonagall, at eight, and another Saturday afternoon with the other Head Boys and Girls," Hermione told him already taking out coloured pens and filling her timetable with different symbols and colours for each class. "And patrolling from ten o'clock to midnight every two days." Ron looked at her dumbstruck.

Ron grinned anyhow. "At least I don't have ANY potions ANY more." Instead he had taken 'Advanced Quidditch Sudies'. "Can't wait for Advanced DADA. There's loads of holes where I don't have much… oh well, it seems pretty okay."

When he finally had a glimpse of Hermione's schedule, he decided that Hermione had finally reached the limits of sanity. "How are you going to survive all that?" he cried out!

Hermione didn't answer, her schedule was 'rather' heavy. Plus Head Girl responsibilities and approaching N.E.W.T.s, she didn't seem to have much time fore something else than work. Maybe she shouldn't have taken extra classes after all. She'd chosen every Advanced class possible, without leaving Social Studies on the Magical Community out or Ancient Runes (or arythmancy for that matter.) She'd decided she'd leave Astronomy out, and well, there was no use for Divination, was there?

A couple of heads followed Harry as he entered the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron might have been the only ones to notice a couple of aurors sneak in at the same time

"Hey, Harry, here's your schedule," Hermione said handing over the timetable.

He took it and sat down without a word, grabbing a toast in the process and biting it furiously. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. He had his glasses on this morning, unlike the previous night, and he looked, maybe to their relief, more, well, let's say Potterish.

"What put your pants in a twist this morning?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Harry snapped back. But he soon felt guilty and excused himself. "Sorry, Ron. I'm just… angry." Something was wrong as he said this, as if it wasn't the kind of angry he was used to. "We have class this Saturday?"

"Right on Harry, they can't do this to us! Have a look at Hermione's schedule!"

"Oh, it's nothing too bad. We need the extra training anyway," Hermione said. "And I just feel that can't let anything down."

"You're joking! You can't seriously take all that!" Ron exclaimed, sincerely concerned about his friend. "You have to let something down. Didn't you learn your lesson in third year?" He was clearly getting a little angry about Hermione's stubbornness. "I swear you'll kill yourself!" It wasn't the thing to say: the Fourth year girls beside them jumped and made a couple of shrieking sounds.

"Honestly, Ron. It's not that bad."

"You'll see," Ron spat at her. He got up, throwing his knife and fork down with a clatter, and marched out of the Great Hall positively fuming, leaving Harry and Hermione behind. Hermione looked down at her schedule.

"Can I see?" asked Harry, readjusting his glasses on his nose. Hermione gave it him. He went over it. Where Ron, Hermione and he were had the same clas was already marked in blue, orange where there where just he and Hermione. "Advanced Herbology? What good is that?"

"It completes Advanced Potions," Hermione replied without a moment's hesitation.

"Introduction to Spell Making?"

"Well, yes. If I want to get in…" Hermione realised she had never talked about this to either Ron or Harry. She'd been so rapped up in all her studies, and well, she'd finally made up her mind that summer… and since there was no more time for anything. "I want to become an Unspeakable." Harry gave her a black stare. "I've been thinking it over for some time, and well, maybe because it's the most challenging thing I came up with... " She said all this very quickly.

"Oh," was all Harry could say for a while. "But to become Unspeakable you surely don't have to take 'everything'."

"Well, no. But it just gives me a larger choice to branch off after I get into the Department. Silly really, but they won't talk about what they actually 'do' there. But I have my ideas, when we… euh…" Hermione was getting more and more uncomfortable with the subject. "Well, you know, when we went down there in Fifth year."

Harry hadn't really thought about what he would do after NEWTs. He had never thought really about an after Hogwarts, except maybe about the Auror career. And Hermione wanted to become an Unspeakable… In the Departments of Mysteries, where… Sirius had passed through the veil. He gulped slightly. And here she was, her whole life nearly all planned out. And nowhere in her mapping had she planned to die. She wasn't wasting any time at anything. What was his use at planning a life he probably wouldn't being able to live through?

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, her brown eyes full of concern.

"I hope you get in," Harry said honestly as he gave her schedule back.

Harry and Hermione met Ron in Charms. He was still a little upset with Hermione, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long, plus, he needed her advice.

"How do you say it?" Ron asked. A pack of cards were clustered over the table.

"It's just 'Pack', Ron. It's the wrist movement you're doing wrong." Hermione demonstrated. "Pack!" she said in a bossy tone doing some sort of zigzag with her wand, followed by a sharp flick. The cards turned over and rearranged themselves in a perfect pack. "You slant off to the right instead of going straight up."

"Ok, ok…" Ron concentrated on his own messy mob of cards. "Pack!" He shook his wand, flicking upwards at the last moment. The cards were frown off the table, Jack of Spades actually catching fire. Harry stomped on it to put the flame out- Jack gave a slight yell as he did so. He then placed the card back on the table, the card figure now sobbing.

"Okay, here we go again…" Ron concentrated, the figures pleading him to stop at once. "Shut up! You're aren't making it any easier!"

"Pack!" Hermione told her own cards. They shuffled together, and when she inspected them, she found them arranged from Ace to King and by colour. The figures clapped at her, Hermione blushed.

"Yours actually like you!" Ron accused glaring at his own whining cards.

"Let me see," Professor Flitwick said, approaching the trio's table.

Harry sighed. "Pack!" He mistakenly gave a flick down instead of up. The cards became a blur as they reorganised themselves, only stopping when… They'd actually formed a pyramid with all 52 cards.

"Excellent!" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

One figure yawned as if it had been just natural occurrence, and slipped, the whole pyramid tumbling back to the desk's surface. The bell rang to Ron's relief.

"See you guys at lunch time," Ron said, putting his things away and leaving Charms Class as a couple of Ravenclaw seventh years entered for Advanced Charms. Harry and Hermione kept to the same table.

"By the way, thanks for the present. I found it this morning in my trunk." He'd been surprised to stumble over a wrapped parcel between his school uniforms, something Tonks had forgot to mention to him about the trip. He'd actually left it on his bed, without opening it, heading straight to Dumbledore. And then, truthfully, he'd then forgotten about it.

"Oh," Hermione said, taken a bit by surprise. "I just thought… well, I just thought… you would like it. I don't think it's healthy being fatalist, and it's something I think everybody should have." Hermione Granger finished by saying resolutely. "If you ask Colin Creevy, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Eurh… thanks" Harry said, not wanting to hurt her feelings and say that he actually hadn't opened it yet, just seen the parcel. Now, what had it got to do with Colin Creevy? He started imagining what it could possibly be. Hermione had acted all kind of shippish.

"Well, hello to this year's class of Advanced Charms," Professor Flitwick piped up from the pile of books he was standing on. "This will be difficult, and I don't expect everyone to manage on their first try, so don't get desperate if anything we learn won't come straight away."

However, other things were also on Harry's mind at that precise moment. Like Hermione's decision to become Unspeakable. Of course she would be good at it. But how good? Would she get herself involved with the prophecies kept in the Department of Mysteries? No, divination wasn't her interest. Developing new spells maybe. Search a counter curse to the Avada Kedavra?

"Now, until end of October, we'll be studying Fraudiger Vivus charms, as in giving 'life' to a simple picture. These charms are used to achieve live paintings." Saying this, he waved his wand at the blackboard and 'Fraudiger Vivus charms' was inscribed with a floating white chalk.

Harry wasn't paying mush attention. Would Hermione studie the veil? Harry remembered the whispers, souls calling out from behind the arch. His godfather, Sirius had fallen through it the day the Ministry was attacked. Was there any chance that Hermione could understand its mysteries?

Harry felt as if his godfather was just behind it, his arm raised waiting for someone to pull him out.

Hermione nudged Harry with her elbow to make sure he paid attention - his dark thoughts melted away. She already had a parchment out and notes had already been scribbled down.

"Let's start then." Professor Flitwick pulled a curtain open revealing Sir Knight Cadogan with a clash of armour riding his scruffy mount in a landscape that resembled the English Moors, all this inside a large canvas framed of wood.

"Stand guard you Errant Flap-Mouthed Hedge-Pig! The West post is under attack! Level bows!" he cried out, swinging his sword over his head, missing his plump poney's ears by inches.

"I made him myself," Professor Flitwick said with pride. "Note the humorist side to his personality…" Harry took his attention away from Hermione's own scribbling, and dipped his quill in the ink pot. "Now, Fraudiger Vivus from the Latin etymology…"

Harry and Hermione descended the marble staircase to the Great Hall, where they joined up with Ron once more.

"Got some Quidditch practice in while you were in Charms," Ron told them as they sat down. "There were actually a couple of Gargoyles out there too. They give me the creeps."

"I know what you mean," Harry said. He told them about his rather rough landing the previous night on Hogwarts roof with the gargoyles that had started attacking him.

Hermione had taken her list of books out once more and was going over it again attentively.

"So, what does the Quidditch Captain have to say?" Ron asked Harry. "When do we start official training? Need a new chaser, we could organise the tryouts in two weeks' time," Ron rumbled on, without touching his food once, too caught up in the Quidditch affairs.

Harry munched on his Spiked Chicken thoughtfully. Of course he'd thought of Quidditch. They'd won the Cup the previous year, Harry being Captain. They'd replaced a couple players then, but their chaser Emily Dickinson had graduated from her seventh year last term, leaving the spot empty. They'd established new strategies, all with Ron's help. However, this year was different, and Harry felt it couldn't go on anymore. "I can't be Captain."

Ron's face fell. "Why?" he asked. Hermione had looked up from her list.

"Ron, because!" Harry searched for words that would fit. He couldn't talk about it out loud, right in the middle of the Great Hall. "I can't. You can be Captain, you're the one taking Advanced Quidditch Studies!"

"You're quitting the team?" Ron asked, worry struck.

"No, I want to stay Seeker, but, I won't have as much time for Quidditch as before…"

"Harry, you can't abandon us…"

"I'm not abandoning you," Harry started, trying to find a way to express what he felt. "Drop it, Ron. I can't. That's all."

Ron was about to say something, but Hermione spoke up first. "Haven't you got an hour of strategy course, Ron? If you're Captain, you might have more chance at getting into a National Team." Ron grumbled something under his breath and picked up a Spiked Chicken of his own, knowing that Hermione was right, again.

"Well, I'm off," Hermione declared getting up. "I need to go to the Library. Start out the Charms' Essay. Can't wait for Defence this afternoon."

"What Charms' Essay?" Ron asked as Hermione left. "We've just come back from summer holidays!"

"We got a ten inch essay on some kind of animation charm for Friday," Harry sighed, dreading what Professor McGonagall would give them that afternoon as homework.

"Have you seen Hermione's schedule?" Ron asked Harry after have made sure Hermione had well and truly left.

"Yeah, a bit packed."

"A bit? You mean she nearly doesn't have time for anything else? Even Percy didn't take that much stuff. I give her two weeks before she loses a subject."

"Don't know, Ron, she seems pretty caught up in her stuff," Harry said taking some Caramelised Cockroaches from a nearby dish.

Later that afternoon, when Harry and Ron went up to Defence, they found Hermione already there, over her book list again, sitting on the far right. Ron looked over her shoulder.

"Simple Principals of Complexity," he read a title aloud. However, Ron had to keep his questions for later, because the small professor Xio Zong decided to enter the classroom at that precise moment.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Seventh Year Defence Against the Dark Arts, I'm Professor Xio Zong." Her name appeared on the black board. "And I'll be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year."

Xio Zong had short black cropped hair and sported the famous expression of You- Shall -Not -Try-and-Mess-With-Me-At-Any-Moment about her, the one that made McGonagall popular. Professor Zong's small mouth crisped

"Don't expect me to give you any favours-" she shot a look at Harry, making him feel angry. "Or leave you any slack." There were a couple of confused expression at the muggle word 'slack', but Xio Zong did not explain. "Mondays and Fridays will be taught in this classroom. Wednesday mornings, we will meet down in front of the Marble Staircases to train out on Hogwart's grounds, giving extra attention at performing magical Defence on the 'terrain'.

"Each Friday, you'll have a quiz, and with the Essays given out in the week, I will be able to make sure of your progress. If you reply to less than half of the questions, or do not give your essays back on time, I'll be forced to give you detention. Is everything clear?"

The class was completely silent to her answer. Hermione put her hand up in the air, making Ron jump in cheer surprise.

"Miss…?" Professor Zong asked.

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "In 'Defence on the Terrain', do you count endurance?"

Professor Zong gave a small, twisted smile. "Miss Granger -in fact- I do." This brought an uneasy frown to Neville's face and an exited air to Dean and Seamus. Parvati and Lavender looked more than put out at the mention of physical exercise. Defence Against the Dark Arts on Wednesday did take up nearly the whole morning after all.

After Defence, Harry and Hermione made their way to the First Floor for Advanced Transfiguration, Ron had gone off with Dean and Seamus talking about Wednesday with some kind of thrill in his eyes.

McGonagall gave Advanced Transfiguration class a half an hour stern speech on the year' programme. They would start Animagi studies, and by Halloween Professor McGonagall told them she would be able to discern those who were potential Animagus. Hermione didn't seem too keen on the idea, but her eyes sparkled when McGonagall spoke about Conjuring and transfigurating things into the most complex vertebrate living beings.

They found Ron out in the corridor after class waiting for them eagerly.

"When are you taking us to see your Head Girl room and stuff?" _Stuff_ being private bathroom and study. "Percy never let us in his, not that he was ever very interesting, so it didn't really matter." It might have been Ron's use of word 'interesting' that convinced Hermione the most to lead her friends up to her Head Girl quarters on the Tenth Floor.

They were led down a medieval corridor, small statues hidden in niches of the wall, while the ceiling was made of series of different sized arches, without any indication of symmetry at all. Ron looked at these dubiously, wondering if they was any fat chance, even with all the magic of Hogwarts that they would just fall on them out of lack of construction co-ordination. "Never come down here before," he said.

"They're just brilliant. I have so much space on my desk, and there are loads shelves to put mèy books …"

They were now standing in front of a Saint-like statue, a peaceful look on her face, her two hands joined. "Mathilda the Meditateful," Hermione told them. "Lisibonus Fraterni," she said to the statue which was then magically pushed aside, leaving way to a straight staircase. They climbed up.

The staircase gave way to a perfect round room. Large windows let the last rays of sunlight in, casting long shadows on the furniture. In its centre stood dark, round oak desk. Papers and new rolls of parchment had been laid down there. Hermione approached these and put a couple into her folder and out of sight.

The wall (there were no corners) was covered with shelves, and where there were no shelves, there hung rich tapestries. Two dozen books had already been set up in the bookcase. On the right hand side was a fireplace -Hermione's cauldron sat near. And by it's side was small couch, looking as if it had been there since the making of Hogwarts.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, a delighted smile on her face. "Isn't it just, perfect?"

"Yeah, I wish I had a Head Boy room… but there's no place for posters-" Hermione gave Ron a reproachful look. "What do you think Harry? … Harry?"

"Coming!" Harry said suddenly coming up the stairs in a hurry.

"Why didn't you come up?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Mh… looking about the corridor." It was a poor excuse, but Ron dismissed the event quickly. "That leads to your room?" Harry asked, pointing at the forged winding staircase. Hermione nodded and led the way.

"Your- your bed!" Ron babbled when they had finally reached her bedroom. "It's enormous!" And indeed, it was rather large. It could contain half a dozen people or even a large hypogriff. "This is so unfair! Do you think that all the other Heads have a large rooms like this?" He jumped on the mattress and stretched out his arms, his fingers still inches away from each side of the bed.

"I don't know… These are the usual Head Girl quarters," Hermione told them. "Look." She pulled back a curtain from the side of a window. Behind had been hidden, engraved on the stone wall in neat writing, a list of names; going from the dome like ceiling down to the floor. "Every Head Girl's name since the Bogie Wars. Here's Penelope Clearwater-" she pointed at a name near the bottom. "And your mum's here, Harry," she showed higher up.

Harry approached the wall, standing by the side of Hermione. Next to her finger was the elegant written name 'Lilly Evans', a date inscribed by it's side.

He starred at it, his green eyes intent on the name. He didn't know how he should react to it. Envy Hermione? Wish that his mother was still alive? Wish that he be Head Boy?

"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked, joining them beside the list. "Put your name down Hermione."

"Oh, well… Why not." Hermione crouched down and placed the tip of her wand under 'Susan Seefar.' "_Signatus Hermione Granger_." Letters itched themselves across the wall, as if the stone had turned to butter at that instant while an invisible hand carved out Hermione's name.

She took a step back to admire the handiwork.. She owned that piece of wall in a sense, and the stone owned her name. How could she put her feelings into words?

Harry sat down on the edge of his bed. Ron was looking at a very still, rather unusual unmoving picture of Mathilda the Meditateful. He was about to ask what was wrong with the portrait, but Harry spoke up first. "The Order of the Phoenix isn't at Sirius' place anymore."

This got the attention of Ron and Hermione. "Where is it?" Ron asked.

"Could it be…" Hermione started thoughtfully. "There's more than tight on the security this year…"

"The Headquarters are here, at Hogwarts." It'd come out in a rush, hoping that his friends would understand the meaning of this, the danger that would soon wash over them.

Hermione stood still, her face pensive.

"Well then," Ron said, plopping down on the bed next to Harry's side, "We can get the Marauder's map out tonight, with your invisibility cloak and find out were they're hiding."

No, they didn't seem to understand. The Order is where it's needed most. The Final Battle, it would be at Hogwarts.

"I don't think we should," Hermione said briskly. "Maybe it's best if..."

"Oh come on, no that 'I-respect-rules' again," Ron complained. "We have the right to know."

"No, I seriously don't think we should find them," Hermione hissed back. "Someone might be able to force the information out of us." Her mind was drifting off, thinking about the parchment she'd signed. If only she could hint them what she had done. Aurors might not think twice about obliviating them, for Security. Secrecy was crucial.

Harry sighed, they didn't understand, and he… he just couldn't tell them everything just yet. "We can't find the Headquarters anyway," Harry told them. "They've taken the Marauders map."

"So that's what you were searching for this morning…" Ron trailed off remembering Harry when he'd just woken up. His friend had been angry, yelling that someone had 'stolen' something from him. "So that's what you were raving about this morning, waking up the whole dormitory."

"It's logic!" Hermione declared. "They're using it, don't you see?" She dropped down next to Ron. "The map will show the true nature of anyone that enters Hogwarts. No one can hide in the Castle. They're watching everything we're doing, every step."

Ron seemed troubled. "Well, I hope thy didn't mind me, Seamus and Dean visiting the Dungbomb store this morning."

Later that evening, after supper, Ron and Harry made their way slowly towards the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione had left for her meeting with Professor McGonagall.

"Wish Dad could give us titbits about the Order," Ron said. "But s'pose Mum is breathing down his neck. But I know Charlie and Bill were off on a mission this summer, haven't returned yet, in fact." He was watching Harry from the corner of his eye. "We could always join the Order when we graduate, what do you think?"

"Mh… Maybe."

Harry hadn't spoken much since they'd gone up to see Hermione's Head Girl quarters, and each time Ron tried to speak or come up with a conversation, Harry would reply with the strict minimum.

They went through the hole behind the portrait of the Fat Lady (password had been changed Gorgias Gorgoroth) passed next to screaming excitedly First Year girls, and Harry and Ron, being to tired to face them off, went to they dormitory.

"What's that?"

Harry picked up Hermione's present from his bed, where he'd left it. It had been wrapped up in orange and red paper. Sitting down, he ripped it off.

It sat in Harry's hands, plain green and obviously new. He turned the pages and found them white and blank from all writing.

"A photo album," Harry told himself more than to Ron. "From Hermione." _It's not healthy being fatalist. _Harry tried to push the dream he'd had that summer away, just before his birthday. Someone in the darkness of the Dungeons had declared he would be destroyed. Harry had dismissed it as a trick from Voldermort's to make his spirits hit undiscovered depths. But after that morning's conversation in Dumbledore's office, he couldn't push the truth away anymore.

This album represented what he wished he could have. Blank pages that still had to be filled, a whole load of them. Here there were so many that they could probably hold his whole life, if he ever got to live it.

Harry fished out a photo from his trunk, and placed it on the first page. Ink swirls started framing it as he gazed down at it. Collin Creevy had taken it in second year. They used to be Lockheart on it, but he had finally left the frame two years ago, leaving Ron Hermione and himself, with Hagrid behind them. they were now all smiling.

Even if it wasn't sure he would live until old age, he could at least try.

Thanks for the reviews once more. I'm continuing along slowly, and well, I'm having fun writing it. So I'll probably be continuing this no matter what. But REVIEWS are constructive, so advice and/or criticism are always welcome. Hey, readers are always right, aren't they?


	6. Tea For Two

**Tea for Two**

Harry stirred the hot tea with his small teaspoon, enjoying the rich warm smell that spilled from the cup and into the air. Yes, tea was something he had learnt to appreciate over his stay in Nepal. It had kept him going day after day. Harry placed his hand over the steaming liquid, letting his hand moisten from the heat. A sensation of piece washed over him. It felt good.

When he'd asked Dobby for the tea, the House Elf had quickly obliged. The Brown Betty now rested on the rough wooden table, it's spout releasing thin wisps of vapour. Harry watched it ascend until it disappeared between the heavy beams of the room. Relaxing? Very much thank you. It made him forget the sores in his joints, the slight twisting feeling he had in each shoulder from the day's training, the tickling at the end of his fingers from the last powerful spell he'd cast.

His first days back had felt tiresome, even though he was more than glad to see Ron and Hermione again. Then why was he avoiding them? Ron was probably in the Common Room, and Harry had decided he didn't want to see the crowd, feel every eye on him... and yes, feel quite insecure, he finally confessed. Hermione was maybe in the library... no, she must be in her study in the Head Girl Quarters.

At the end of class, he'd slipped away quietly, saying he had an owl to see to. Ron and Hermione had watched him leave without a word. They had waited patiently for him to tell them about Nepal, his training... everything really. But Harry felt he wasn't ready. Not yet. Not really. And he hoped they understood. He'd been away so long, while they had continued on.

He was now legally of age, a whole year had passed, cramped into one summer. However, it was under secrecy. It had been ages since he'd seen the Dursleys, heard of them, felt anger towards them. Ages since he'd seen his two best friends. He thought he felt quite empty towards them. How could that be? He was _glad_ to see them, to have them near. But his happiness didn't seem to extend to anything else.

"The Saviour" he'd been called. Harry shuddered. He despised the name, and didn't quite forgive Aurelius for using it.

_Harry, you are the Saviour of our kind. You are supreme. _Harry didn't feel superior, neither did he want to be some kind of martyr. He would do what he had to do, and that would be it. It was selfish, he knew, and he really didn't care.

His fingers played with the edge of the pages from Hermione's photo album. Yes, Harry decided, he would fill this up.

He drowned the tea, not caring if it slightly scolded his throat as it went down, grabbed the album and heading out in steady strides.

He had to find Denis, Denis Creevy.

ooooo

Ron was in the Common Room, and very glad about all the attention he was receiving. He had a bottle of Butterbear in one hand, the other twitching with excitement next to the chess board, trying to decide if he should check mate now (and be over and done with) or make the game last a little longer (and still win, naturally).

"Bishop... in E4." The sturdy figure walked across the board diagonally, making a small pawn crumble in his wake. "Check mate."

There was a collective groan around him and some laughter at the poor expression Seamus was sporting, his forehead lightly beaded with sweat. Ron was grinning from ear to ear. He could feel the presence of Lavender just behind him, who was peering, over his shoulder in awe. Yes, Ron decided, he really liked the attention.

"I'm impressed," she was saying while Ron noticed the warmth of her hand against his back which she'd set there casually... well, not quite casually. And indeed, there was a knowing gleam in her large eyes.

There was a flash of light, which made Ron forget momentarily about the game; he was lightly blinded for a second. When his sight cleared, he saw from the corner of his eye a student scurry away and out of the portrait hole. He shook his head, banishing the thought away, and resumed his attention back to Seamus.

"How much was it, Seamus? Three Sickles if I won the game? It's pay time! Anyone else wants another round?"

oooo

Neville was heading back from the library, feeling very tired. The weight of his bag over his shoulder was starting to rub sorely, he could feel it throbbing in a familiar way. He'd unknoted his red and orange tie, feeling rather warm from climbing the stairs. Readjusting his satchel, he continued his way. On the Sixth floor, he was raised by loud voices. Neville gave a last look towards his Quarters where he'd been heading for before turning off towards the building tension between some Fourth Years. He sighed. Sleep would have to wait, he thought.

He wasn't surprised to find A Gryffindor and a Slytherin exchanging swear words.

"Your mother was a..." The Slytherin, who Neville recognised as Gozuin Flint, stopped in mid-sentence, finally noticing Neville approaching, but more importantly, the golden badge that shone on his chest. "..a hamster.. and you mother smelled elderflower..." He was trying to back paddle now.

The Gryffindor's eyebrows shot up at this. "My mother was what?" her words trailed off as she finally caught sight of Neville who was now standing as stiff as a statue. "Yes, a hamster. Quite true." She nodded, trying to look completely honest, but failing terribly. She glanced at the Slytherin anxiously, only to see him as petrified.

"I was hoping to get to bed soon, and what do I find instead?" Neville asked. "A meaningless row between two Houses. Really, is this is necessary? Besides, you are both over curfew. You deserve detention, the both of you, and fifty points off both of your Houses. How is Professor Snape," he said eyeing the Slytherin "and Professor McGonagall," he continued looking at the Gryffindor, "going to take this?"

The two Fourth Years gulped. There was small flash from the top stairway.

Neville fingered his badge, trying to suppress a grin. He knew exactly what to do, a picture of Snape appearing in his mind. "Get back to your respective Common Rooms, both of you. I'll talk about this to Filch, see if he's willing to waste his time with you for an hour of detention. Understood? I'll see about points later."

They both nodded, and walked away in opposite directions, without meeting each other's eyes.

"Oh, and Flint," Neville spoke up before he had time to disappear. "A hamster?"

The Slytherin shrugged and left.

Neville looked up above him to the next moving stairs. Whoever had been there had disappeared, besides, he wasn't feeling like going after the rogue student. He would let Mrs Norris catch that one.

oooooo

Hermione was writing at her desk, the tip of her quill travelling smoothly across the parchment, her forehead wrinkled by concentration. She eyed her muggle multicoloured pen with desire. If only the teachers would let her write on paper, it would be so much easier. She resisted the urge to go and complain and brought her attention back to her essay after have dipped her quill in the black angular inkpot that rested next to her right hand.

Her hair had been quickly swept up in an untidy bun, so it wouldn't fall over her eyes and need to push it back behind her ears, or let it drip in the ink. A couple of hours had passed without her really realising time ticking away. The sky was now dark, and the only light that was left came from the fireplace Hermione had lit to keep warm, and the candle that floated over her head.

A tower of books stood on one side of her desk, the ones she'd received earlier that day from Flourish and Blott's.

Hermione sat back in her chair, turning her wrist slowly, trying to ease away the cramp that had crept up by writing for such a long time. The side of her little finger of her right hand was pink from the pressure her hand had exerted onto the parchment. She rubbed it slightly, deciding that maybe she should call it a night.

She eyed her work carefully. There was only a paragraph left, maybe she could finish it now so she wouldn't need to worry about it later. She found it was a good idea and did just that.

She hadn't heard the passageway open, or someone creep up into her study, too absorbed in what she was doing.

There was a sudden flash of light making her jump. Her quill went flying from her hand in surprise.

"Harry! What do you think you're doing!" she hissed after have regained her composure. She sat up from her chair to meet him.

Harry stood looking down at the wizard camera in his hands, gazing at the photo it had just produced, a small smile playing on his face. "You look..." he didn't how to put it. He watched the picture playing: Hermione rubbing her wrist and then going back to work, her mind completely set on it. Studious was the best word to describe her. The fire lit her face while the rest of the room was nearly plunged into darkness. The wood of the polished desk shined at a certain angle, leaving a long trace of white across the photo.

Hermione snatched it from his hand and scanned it quickly, analysing the details. A small 'Oh' escaped her lips. "That's quite good, you know," she told him, forgetting completely to be angry with him for have frightened her out of her wits. She turned back towards him, letting him take the picture back.

"You think so?" Harry asked, curious.

Hermione smiled.

She'd been frightened that Harry had actually been trying to avoid Ron and her ever since term began. She had recognised Denis's camera straight away, and felt rather proud that Harry was actually taking photos.

She gently took the camera away from his hands and took a couple of steps back, putting it up against her eye and aiming the lenses at Harry.

"You are out after curfew, Mr Potter. What can you say in your defence?" she asked, laughter on the edge her words. Harry went to answer, but before he could say a word, Hermione had pressed the button with her thumb with a small click, taking a shot at him. The picture quickly fell out of the camera. Harry came beside her to have a look.

His hair was as messy as usual, his green eyes shining in the firelight behind his glasses. His picture smiled slightly before his mouth opened as if he was about to say something.

"I have nothing to say in defence," Harry finally answered. "I'm truly guilty. But aren't you meant to be in bed? It's nearly midnight, young lady." He grinned, knowing that this would only serve to irritate her.

Hermione pushed him away playfully. "You sound like my dad! Give me that!" She shook Harry's hands away as he tried to take to the camera back. She was quickly shooting more photos of him as he tried to catch her.

"Hermione! I hate having my picture taken!" he complained as he followed her up the winding staircase up to her room, while photos flew out of the camera. This only fuelled her delight. She walked steadily backwards, taking more.

"It's only fair!" she told him. "You get to sneak in my study and scare me. I'm getting my revenge!" She retaliated with more shots before running up the rest of the stairs, laughing at the top of her lungs.

"That's not fair play," he shot back.

He found Hermione sitting on her bed smiling widely, bushy hair trying to escape her bun. "Now, who's feeling threatened?" she asked.

Harry came and sat next to her on her bed. She handed him the camera willingly, feeling a little guilty for have wasted most of the film. The small indicator on the side declared that there was only one picture left. Harry didn't seem worried about it. "I'll get Denis a new one," he told her.

Silence fell over the duo as they watched the discarded photographs on the floor, Harry's face staring up from every one of them with different expressions. He soon let himself fall backwards down on the mattress, while his legs still dangled over the side of the bed. Hermione watched him rest and finally decided to join him down on the bed.

Hermione was itching to ask him to tell her about Nepal, about how he decided it was the best. But she kept quite this time. It was still too early. She watched Harry turning the camera in his hands, his head bent over it. He looked up from it and back at Hermione.

"I've got an idea."

Hermione frowned. What was this about?

She kept still as Harry slowly slid his arm under her head, letting it rest on his arm. Her eyebrow arched, as if to ask him what he was playing at. She glanced around and soon noticed the nose of the camera pointing down at them, hanging from Harry's stretched arm. Her smile broadened. Another quick glance assured her that Harry looked quite... expectant, in a nice kind of way. His green eyes searched hers before his own lips curled into a smile. Hermione ignored how close they were, even though she could feel Harry's warm breath on her cheeks. If she had felt something more than pure companionship for Harry, she might have felt the urge to kiss him. But this was no the case, and so forth...

But Hermione did noticed something: Harry's eyes. They were different, Harry was different. He looked tired. The angles of his faces were painfully sharper, his skin maybe a little darker than the last time she had seen him. But the eyes: they had definitely changed. They told a story to which she felt alien to: pain. She blinked, tore her gaze away from him and back at the camera. There was a flash, and it was over. But Harry made no move to leave her side.

Instead he leant his head down against her shoulder, closing his eyes. "You smell like lemon-weed," he commented. Hermione didn't answer, deep in thought. Harry didn't know how those words affected her deep down.

"I've missed you," he finally confessed to Hermione.

And yes, Harry finally did feel something, something half way between satisfaction and joy. His worries seemed to ease a little.

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione suddenly proposed. She had whole collection of her own: The traditional Darjeeling, Earl Grey, Russian tea... and of course her favourite: a tea she had nicknamed Poet's Tea, a mixture of spice and orange. She would usually drink up to five cups when she worked hours in a row, keeping her awake and sharp when she needed. The smell would easily ease away any headache as well, like the one she had now from her earlier work.

Harry's eyes snapped open. Tea sounded good.

oooooo

It's slick surface gleamed in the light.

In the photo on the right, Ron was facing Seamus across the chessboard, a grin spread over his face. That evening he was wearing one of Molly's brown jumpers from Christmas, a whole under his arm visible as he lifted his hands, waving them naturally to accompany his silent speech. His hair was like a bright splash of red, impossible to miss at first glance. Seamus smiled, unusually sheepish, trying to decided which pawn he should move next. The Common Room around them was still full. Lavender was just beside Ron, hand on the back of his chair, looking more interested in Ron himself than the game, while Ginny had obviously picked up on the bit of flirting that was going on. Dean was trying to spirit Seamus to win, doing wide gestures towards the chessboard, then at Ron as if saying: "Do something! Anything!"

If you turn the page, you come face to face with Neville, his serious appearance dissolving into a mischievous smile that is rather rare in Neville's case. He seemed a little tired back then, his tie was unknoted and dangled at each side of his neck. Neville never really lost his round cheeks that held a charming pink tinge; when he smiled, large dimples would form. He shakes his head lightly before leaving the frame of the photo.

On the other side, Hermione was studying late at night. It was a typical photo of Hermione, really. She was surrounded by parchment and books: it was a world of it's own, organised in different hemispheres, only Hermione knew it's ways and was capable of mapping it correctly. To an exterior onlooker, it looked like a uniform sea, Hermione could distinguish the different islands. Potions Island was devised into different state/categories (meaning offensive, defensive, animal or vegetal based, arranged by the moon cycle they were meant to be brewed under… the list went on and on).

Behind you can find a picture of Harry and Hermione looking happy. Hermione's head rests on Harry's arms in a friendly manner. They look at each other meaningfully before turning their gaze back towards us. Hermione tilts her head gently towards Harry, feeling comfortable.

* * *

The photos are full of meaning, hints to future plot (if I ever get around to it). I invite you all to send a review with constructive criticism!

Oh, and find the quote from the Holly Grail you must!


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